I 


HE 

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lOMPKiNS 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


THE  THINGS  THAT  COUNT 


THE  THINGS  THAT  COUNT 


BY 
ELIZABETH  KNIGHT  TOMPKINS 

AUTHOR  OF  "HER  MAJESTY,"  "AN  UNLESSONED  GIRL,"  ETC. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 

Gbe  Ifcnicfcerbocfcer  press 

1900 


COPYRIGHT,  igoo 

BY 
ELIZABETH  KNIGHT  TOMPKINS 


Tlbe  Ifcnfcfcei-bocfeer  preee,  IRew 


CONTENTS 

:HAPTER  PAGE 

I — GROWING  A  SOUL    .         ..'"-..         .  i 

II — ENTER  RICHARD  PALMER         .         .  17 

III — CRUMBLING  IDOLS    ....  37 

IV— A  COMPACT 48 

V — EVELYN  BREAKS  FAITH  ...  69 
VI — THE  VAN  HORNS  ARRIVE       .         .  87 
VII — ACCUSATIONS  AND  COUNTER-ACCU- 
SATIONS        .         .         .         .         .  106 

VIII — AN  IDYL  ......  133 

IX — THE  SCENE  CHANGES      .         .        .  165 

X— LUCIA 181 

XI — EVELYN  GOES  HOME       .         .        .  199 

XII— THE  SMITH  PART   ....  226 

XIII — RICHARD  RECEIVES  A  BLOW  .         .  242 

XIV— THE  DOCTOR 274 

XV — THE  GATES  AJAR   ....  300 
iii 


IV 


Contents 


CHAPTER 

XVI — FURTHER  GLIMPSES  OF  HEAVEN 


PAGE 
317 


XVII — RETROSPECTIVE        ....     331 
XVIII — THE    DELUGE,    AND    WHAT    CAME 

AFTER    IT        .....       358 


THE  THINGS  THAT  COUNT 


THE  THINGS  THAT  COUNT 


CHAPTER  I 

GROWING  A   SOUL 

ALL  the  guests  in  Mrs.  Elisha  Perkins's 
luxurious  drawing-room  were  gathered 
in  an  appreciative  semicircle  about  one  figure, 
a  young  woman  sitting  on  a  divan  with  a  guitar 
on  her  knees.  She  was  singing  comic  songs  in 
a  sweet  soprano  voice,  with  something  inde- 
scribably humorous,  yet  altogether  charming, 
in  her  manner.  So,  at  least,  her  audience 
seemed  to  find  it ;  for  they  were  listening  to 
her  with  wide  grins  on  their  respective  faces, 
and  at  every  pause  they  clamorously  demanded 
more,  suggesting  favourites  for  her  to  choose 
from.  The  young  woman  was  obliging;  she 
sang  everything  they  asked  her  to,  and  even 
threw  in  one  or  two  extras  on  her  own  account. 


2  The  Things  that  Count 

Probably  her  appearance  had  something  to  do 
with  her  success.  Her  face  was  full  of  good- 
humour  and  fun,  which  showed  themselves  in 
the  laugh  in  her  light-brown  eyes,  just  match- 
ing her  curly  hair,  and  in  the  suggestion  of  a 
dimple  in  her  left  cheek.  She  looked  adorably 
pretty  in  the  graceful  attitude  which  a  guitar 
exacts,  with  her  knees  crossed,  showing  her 
slim  feet  in  brown  satin  slippers.  Her  gown 
was  of  deep  cream-coloured  mull,  covered 
closely  with  a  faint  brown  pattern  of  interlock- 
ing arabesques. 

It  was  late  before  she  was  released  and  the 
guests  took  leave  of  their  hostess. 

"  It  was  certainly  a  great  success,"  Mrs. 
Perkins  remarked  with  visible  pride  to  the  two 
young  women  who  had  helped  her  entertain 
them,  Dolly  Van  Horn,  her  secretary,  and 
Evelyn  Smith,  the  girl  of  the  guitar,  her 
guest. 

It  is  all  owing  to  Miss  Smith,"  said  the 
former  admiringly. 

'  You    sang   very  well  to-night,    Evelyn," 
Mrs.  Perkins  remarked  patronisingly. 

I  am  glad  you  liked  it,"  Evelyn  replied 
without  a  suspicion  of  sarcasm.  Evidently 
she  did  not  resent  the  tone. 

The  smile  was  still  on  her  face  after  she  had 
said  good-night  and  had  gone  -up-stairs  to  her 


Growing  a  Soul  3 

room.  But  the  door  had  no  sooner  shut  be- 
hind her  than  it  was  dropped  like  a  too-heavy 
burden.  An  expression  of  intense  weariness 
took  its  place.  She  looked  five  years  older 
than  she  had  appeared  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  tired  of  it  all.  I  wish  I  might 
never  hear  a  coon  song  again,"  she  said  half 
aloud,  throwing  herself  down  on  the  couch  by 
the  window  and  burying  her  face  in  the  pillows. 
She  lay  perfectly  motionless  for  five  minutes; 
then  rose  to  her  feet  and  examined  her  gown 
to  see  if  she  had  wrinkled  it.  Next  she  took 
it  off  deliberately,  folding  her  ribbons  and 
other  accessories  to  her  toilet  with  the  utmost 
care.  After  she  had  put  on  a  dressing-gown 
and  a  pair  of  old  slippers,  she  went  to  the 
closet  and  brought  out  a  big  dress-box  con- 
taining a  gown  in  the  process  of  being  made. 
She  spread  her  materials  on  the  bed,  turned 
on  an  electric  light  which  hung  at  its  head,  and 
began  to  sew  quickly  and  skilfully,  with  a  tired, 
serious  look  on  her  face. 

Presently  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
in  answer  to  an  invitation,  Dolly  Van  Horn 
came  in. 

"  I  was  afraid  I  would  find  you  in  bed,"  she 
apologised,  "  but  Mrs.  Perkins  wants  me  to 
answer  that  letter  she  gave  you  to  read." 

"  It  's  on  my  dressing-table  just  behind  you. 


4          The  Things  that  Count 

Sit   down   a   minute,    won't   you,    Miss   Van 
Horn?" 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  she  asked,  sitting 
down  on  a  corner  of  the  bed. 
"  Making  myself  a  gown." 
'  What  a  strange  time  to  choose!  " 
"  I  always  sew  at  night.     It  is  the  only  time 
I  am  sure  of  having  to  myself.     I  do  any  ma- 
chine work  I  have  to  do  in  the  daytime,  but 
all  the  planning  and  cutting  out  and  all  the 
handwork  at  night." 

"  But  don't  you  miss  the  sleep  ?  " 
"  I  get  eight  hours.     I  make  a  point  of  that. 
I  '11  be  in  bed  by  two  and  I  don't  get  up  until 
ten.     You  see  I  can't  afford  to  look  old  a  min- 
ute before  I  have  to." 

"  I  should  think  -it  would  be  much  more 
satisfactory  to  go  to  bed  and  to  get  up  a  couple 
of  hours  earlier.  The  morning  is  the  time  to 
work.  That  is  what  I  always  do.  I  have 
breakfast  at  eight  and  I  have  done  half  a  day's 
work  before  Mrs.  Perkins  is  likely  to  call  on 
me." 

Evelyn  laughed.  "  Does  n't  that  just  re- 
present the  difference  between  you  and  me  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Anybody  would  know  that  you 
got  up  early  and  that  I  got  up  late.  There 
is  something  so  healthy,  mentally  as  well  as 
physically,  about  you.  You  're  a  buttercup 


Growing  a  Soul  5 

and  I  'm  a  night-blooming  cereus.  You  are 
worth  a  thousand  of  me.  I  have  been  humili- 
atingly  conscious  of  it  ever  since  I  came  here ; 
but  I  suppose,"  she  added  thoughtfully,  "  I 
suppose  the  average  man  would  be  fool  enough 
to  prefer  me  to  you." 

"  Or  the  exceptional  man  either.  Men  don't 
care  for  me  except  in  a  Platonic,  sisterly  way. 
I  never  had  a  man  in  love  with  me  in  my  life. 
I  suppose  that  seems  inconceivably  and  inex- 
pressibly dreary  to  you." 

"  Not  in  my  present  mood.  I  feel  cheap 
and  common,  music-hall-y ;  and  the  kind  of 
tinsel  attracting  that  I  do  seems  loathsome  to 
me.  It  is  n't  the  real  me  that  they  care  about. 
They  don't  know  anything  about  it,  and  it  is 
humiliating  to  me,  the  sudden  way  they  begin 
to  make  love  to  me, —  just  because  I  can  sing 
darky  songs  and  have  been  blessed,  or  cursed, 
with  an  attractive  exterior  and  an  infectious 
laugh.  It  is  degrading  and  I  hate  the  whole 
thing.  I  '11  never  marry  anyone  but  a  blind  man. 
Now  if  a  man  tells  you  he  loves  you,  you  know 
he  means  yourself.  You  have  n't  any  tricks." 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  felt  this  way.  I  did  n't 
know  you  cared,"  Dolly  said  slowly.  "  I 
thought  you  were  happy  in  your  life.  I  have 
often  thought  so.  What  an  actress  you  must 
be!" 


6          The  Things  that  Count 

"  What  a  hypocrite,  do  you  mean  ?  No  ;  I 
don't  think  that  I  am  that.  It  was  all  genuine 
five  years  ago, —  the  fun,  the  enthusiasm,  the 
enjoyment;  and  now  it  is  simply  habit.  I  ad- 
mit that  it  is  a  habit  that  I  should  not  have 
kept  up  if  it  had  not  been  to  my  advantage  to 
do  so.  Still,  it  is  a  second-nature  to  me  now 
to  seem  to  be  having  a  better  time  than  any- 
one else  and  to  help  other  people  to  have  one. 
I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me  to- 
night (or,  rather,  I  do),  but  it  all  seems  emptier 
than  usual." 

"  And  I  thought  you  were  so  completely 
satisfied,"  Dolly  repeated,  genuinely  aston- 
ished. 

You  thought  I  had  no  soul,  I  suppose  ? 
Well,  I  did  n't  have  when  I  was  younger. 
One  has  been  growing  in  me  of  late  years,  and  I 
find  it  very  inconvenient.  There  was  n't  room 
for  one  in  my  scheme  of  life.  But  you  must  not 
imagine  that  I  am  in  the  habit  of  letting  go 
and  talking  like  this.  You  see,  it  is  n't  worth 
while  keeping  up  the  farce  before  you,  if  you 
are  a  Van  Horn.  You  have  n't  any  house  to 
invite  me  to.  Am  I  brutally  frank  ?  " 

;<  No,  I  like  it.  I  have  never  liked  you  so 
well  as  I  do  this  minute.  But  if  you  hate 
your  present  life  so  much,  why  don't  you  try 
some  other  ?  " 


Growing  a  Soul  7 

Evelyn  laughed,  rather  mirthlessly. 

"  My  dear  girl,  that  is  so  easy  to  say.  Be- 
sides, I  don't  usually  hate  it  so  much  as  I  do 
to-night.  There  is  a  special  reason.  I  will 
tell  you  about  it,  and  then,  perhaps,  I  sha'n't 
mind  it  any  more.  It  was  something  that 
horrible  Mr.  Little  said  to  me.  He  half  whis- 
pered to  me  that  he  'd  like  to  engage  me  per- 
manently to  sing  to  him.  There  was  nothing 
in  his  words,  but  his  manner  was  insulting. 
He  would  never  have  dared  to  say  it  in  that 
way  to  any  of  the  other  girls.  And  the  worst 
of  it  is,  I  don't  dare  snub  him.  He  is  too 
useful  to  me.  So  I  had  to  smile  and  act  as  if 
I  liked  it.  I  'd  like  to  be  rich  and  important 
for  one  day,  just  to  get  even  with  him  for 
some  of  the  things  he  has  had  the  presumption 
to  say  to  me.  I  was  planning  it  all  out  when 
you  came." 

"  I  don't  know  you  to-night,"  Dolly  re- 
marked. 

"  I  don't  know  myself.  I  used  to  think  that 
I  was  so  amiable  and  good-natured, — every- 
body has  always  told  me  so, — but  sometimes, 
nowadays,  I  feel  that  this  is  n't  my  real  nature 
at  all.  I  seem  to  have  a  devil  inside  of  me.  I 
resent  things  as  I  never  used  to.  I  am  grow- 
ing morbidly  sensitive  about  things  that  I  used 
to  take  as  a  matter  of  course." 


8  The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  a  devil.  I  think  that  it 
is  the  soul  that  you  spoke  of  a  little  while  ago. 
That  is  making  you  discontented  with  your 
life,  and,  sooner  or  later,  you  will  find  yourself 
forced  to  give  it  up  and  get  into  something 
better." 

"  Or  something  worse.  My  dear  girl,  you 
don't  understand.  You  cannot  understand, 
you  are  so  different.  I  can't  endure  ugly,  in- 
harmonious surroundings,  and  all  the  money  I 
have  in  the  world  is  five  hundred  dollars  a 
year.  I  must  have  pretty  clothes  and  bright, 
airy,  sunshiny  rooms.  I  loathe  black  corsets 
and  Hamburg  edging  and  cotton  sheets.  I 
cannot  eat  a  mouthful  if  things  are  not  cooked 
and  served  exactly  so.  Dirt  makes  me  literally 
shudder,  and  as  for  bad  smells,  they  make  me 
physically  ill.  No,  my  present  life  may  be 
unattractive,  but  the  alternative  is  worse.  I 
simply  cannot  live  in  any  surroundings  that 
nine  dollars  a  week  can  buy  me."  Both  girls 
were  silent  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  Evelyn 
went  on:  "  It  is  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk 
who  have  a  college  education  and  an  earning 
capacity.  Now  what  am  I  good  for,  I  'd  like 
to  know  ?  I  can  speak  French  and  German, 
more  or  less  badly ;  I  can  sing  comic  songs  and 
strum  on  the  piano  rather  pleasingly;  I  have 
read  a  great  many  novels  and  have  some 


Growing  a  Soul  9 

disconnected  literary  and  historical  informa- 
tion, but  I  could  n't  do  a  sum  in  fractions  to 
save  my  neck,  and  I  always  write  a  note  with  a 
dictionary  beside  me.  I  can  make  clothes,  to 
be  sure,  but  my  methods  are  purely  original." 

"  You  could  do  my  work  as  well  as  I,"  Dolly 
suggested. 

"  Not  I.  I  could  n't  keep  the  accounts  of 
all  those  charities,  nor  carry  on  literary  corre- 
spondences with  farmers'  daughters.  I  could  n't 
stand  the  position  a  week.  That  it  is  endur- 
able for  you  is  simply  because  you  are  Twiller 
Van  Horn's  niece,  and  because  Mrs.  Perkins 
hopes  that  the  connection  will  lead  to  Mrs. 
Van  Horn's  calling  on  her  some  day.  A 
plebeian  Smith  would  be  treated  very  differ- 
ently from  a  patrician  Van  Horn.  You  know 
you  are  the  only  secretary  that  Mrs.  Perkins 
has  ever  kept  more  than  a  month.  She  is  afraid 
that  you  will  tell  the  Van  Horns  if  she  does 
not  treat  you  with  every  consideration." 

Dolly  laughed. 

"  I  know  that,"  she  said.  "  But,  all  the 
same,  I  think  I  could  have  stayed." 

You  could  if  anyone  could  have.  You 
are  so  placid  and  serene,  so  much  above  all  her 
little  tormenting  ways.  But  I  suppose  you 
are  thinking  that  it  is  dreadful  of  me  to  talk 
this  way  about  my  hostess.  I  don't  do  it  very 


io         The  Things  that  Count 

often.     You  see,  it  would  be  impolitic.     It  is 
a  dangerous  amusement." 

"  You  can't  make  me  believe  that  this  is 
your  only  motive.  You  like  to  make  yourself 
out  so  much  worse  than  you  really  are.  Never- 
theless, I  have  great  hopes  of  you.  A  healthy 
discontent  is  such  a  good  sign." 

Evelyn  picked  up  her  work  and  went  on  shir- 
ring the  dimity  at  the  waist-line. 

"  How  pretty  that  is!"  exclaimed  Dolly. 
"  I  love  lavender  and  white.  How  are  you 
going  to  trim  it  ?  " 

'  I  have  this  lovely  deep  Valenciennes  lace, 
one  of  my  numerous  gifts  for  services  rendered, 
and  I  am  going  to  put  that  down  the  front  like 
this.  And  then  I  am  going  to  wear  a  lavender 
satin  stock  and  a  belt  with  a  gold  buckle. 
Don't  you  think  that  will  be  pretty  ?  " 

"  Lovely!  It  is  so  wonderful  to  me  to  see 
anyone  do  things  of  that  sort.  I  am  simply 
helpless  with  a  needle  in  my  hand  and  I 
have  n't  an  atom  of  taste.  I  'd  rather  not 
have  a  new  gown  than  decide  how  to  have  it 
made.  But  I  don't  know  that  it  makes  much 
difference.  I  look  as  ugly  in  a  new  gown  as 
in  an  old."  Dolly  said  this  serenely,  with  the 
air  of  one  stating  a  simple  fact.  Evidently 
her  lack  of  beauty  was  not  a  point  on  which 
she  was  sensitive. 


Growing  a  Soul  1 1 

"  I  don't  admit  that  you  look  ugly  in  any- 
thing," said  Evelyn.  "  It  is  perfectly  evident, 
all  the  same,  that  you  don't  care  what  you 
wear.  Now  your  hair  (if  you  '11  forgive  my 
mentioning  it)  is  perfectly  magnificent.  I  never 
look  at  it  without  wishing  that  I  could  paint 
it, — that  mahogany  colour  is  so  evidently  in- 
tended for  a  canvas ;  but  it  is  a  sin  the  way  you 
do  it.  You  deserve  to  have  stringy,  mud- 
coloured  hair.  I  wish  that  you  would  let  me 
do  it  for  you  some  day.  It  would  be  a  delight 
for  me  to  get  my  hands  in  it." 

"  I  'd  be  only  too  glad  to  have  you.  You 
may  not  believe  it,  but  I  'd  like  to  dress  better 
if  I  only  knew  how  to  set  about  it.  It  is  not 
a  question  of  economy.  I  spend  money  enough 
on  my  clothes,  but  I  don't  know  what  to  buy. 
There  is  no  reason  but  lack  of  knowledge  why 
I  should  not  be  well  dressed.  I  have  no  one 
dependent  on  me.  My  mother  has  her  own 
little  income.  I  have  a  good  salary  and  quite 
a  little  money  in  the  bank  saved  up  for  a  rainy 
day  or  a  trip  to  Europe." 

I  should  n't  be  surprised  if  you  spent  more 
on  your  clothes  than  I  do  on  mine,"  said 
Evelyn.  '  I  make  all  of  them.  You  ought 
to  see  the  tailor  finish  I  can  put  on  a  cloth 
gown.  And  I  can  braid  and  do  all  that  sort 
of  thing.  These  summer  clothes  are  mere 


12         The  Things  that  Count 

play.  The  materials  are  so  cheap  that  you 
can  have  any  number  of  them  if  you  make 
them  yourself,  and  if  you  get  the  washing  of 
them  out  of  your  friends'  laundresses,  as  I 
do." 

We  won't  go  back  to  that  subject,"  said 
Dolly.  "  I  am  going  to  bed.  I  have  a  lot  of 
work  to  do  to-morrow,  and  I  never  can  be  sure 
of  my  time  after  Mrs.  Perkins  is  up.  By  the 
way,"  she  added,  when  she  had  reached  the 
door,  "  you  did  n't  know  that  Cyril  and  Mr. 
Palmer  are  coming  to-morrow.  The  telegram 
came  just  after  you  had  gone  up-stairs." 

'  They  are  ?  But  I  don't  suppose  it  will 
make  any  difference  to  anybody.  I  never 
heard  Cyril  say  ten  words  in  my  life,  and  I 
understand  Mr.  Palmer  won't  live  in  the 
house." 

"  No;  he  is  going  to  board  at  one  of  the 
farmhouses,  the  Andrews's  probably." 

'  That  stipulation  rather  interested  me  in 
him,"  said  Evelyn.  "  Do  you  know  how  old 
he  is  ? — not  that  it  matters.  All  men  are  alike 
to  me  unless  they  have  twenty-five  thousand 
a  year  and  upward." 

"  Oh,  don't!  "  protested  Dolly.  "  I  hate  to 
hear  you  talk  this  way,  though  I  know  you 
don't  mean  it.  I  don't  know  how  old  he  is, 
except  that  he  is  young,  generally  speaking. 


Growing  a  Soul  13 

Cyril  likes  him,  if  Cyril  may  be  said  to  like 
anything  more  personal  than  galvanic  batteries 
and  telephones.'* 

"  What  an  impossible  boy  he  is!  "  remarked 
Evelyn. 

"  Not  so  impossible  as  he  seems  to  be.  I 
really  have  a  decided  liking  for  him.  We  have 
grown  to  be  very  good  friends.  He  has  a 
strong  character  and  I  think  that  he  will  sur- 
prise us  all  some  day ;  but  he  never  will  amount 
to  anything  until  he  is  out  from  his  mother's 
control." 

"  Mrs.  Perkins  antagonises  him." 

'  Yes,  dreadfully.  He  is  another  person 
when  he  is  away  from  her.  She  seems  to 
arouse  everything  that  is  sulky  and  obstinate 
in  him." 

"  He  dislikes  me,"  said  Evelyn.  "  I  think 
he  considers  me  on  his  mother's  side.  Do  you 
think  Mr.  Palmer  will  succeed  in  getting  him 
through  his  college  examinations  ?  " 

"  If  he  has  any  sense,  if  he  knows  how  to 
take  Cyril,  he  will.  You  see,  he  is  n't  a  stupid 
boy  in  the  least.  It  is  just  that  he  has  made 
up  his  mind  that  he  does  n't  want  to  study 
Latin  and  Greek  and  go  to  college,  and  he 
positively  refuses  to  study.  When  it  's  mathe- 
matics and  science,  it  's  quite  another  thing." 

"  I  should  think  his  mother  would  send  him 


14         The  Things  that  Count 

to  a  school  of  technology  or  something  of  that 
sort, —  to  the  Yale  Scientific  School,  for  in- 
stance." 

"  That  's  what  she  ought  to  do,  but  she 
thinks  that  it  's  better  form  for  Cyril  to  go  to 
Harvard  and  take  a  classical  course.  She 
wants  him  to  make  friends  who  will  help  him 
on  socially.  That  is  why  she  sent  him  to  Dr. 
Wendell.  They  are  both  obstinate  when  they 
make  up  their  minds  to  a  thing,  and  I  am 
curious  to  see  who  will  win.  You  see  it 's  a 
race  for  time.  Cyril  will  be  of  age  in  a  year 
and  a  half,  and  if  he  succeeds  in  keeping  out 
of  college  for  that  time,  he  won't  go  at  all, 
while  what  Mrs.  Perkins  hopes  is  that,  if  he 
once  gets  in,  he  will  like  it  so  much  that  he 
will  finish  his  course.  They  say  Mr.  Palmer  is 
the  man  to  put  him  through  if  anybody  can. 
Mrs.  Perkins  pays  him  a  high  salary ;  but  Dr. 
Wendell  said  he  was  the  person  to  get  at  any 
price.  He  has  n't  been  doing  tutoring  at  all 
for  several  years." 

"  Do  you  know  what  he  has  been  doing  ?  " 
Evelyn  asked,  holding  up  the  waist  on  which 
she  was  sewing,  to  get  the  effect. 

"  How  soft  and  pretty  that  is!  "  exclaimed 
Dolly.  "  I  could  n't  make  a  thing  look  like 
that  if  my  life  depended  on  it.  Mr.  Palmer 
has  been  private  secretary  to  Atwater,  J.  G, 


Growing  a  Soul  15 

Atwater.  He  has  just  been  admitted  to  the 
Bar  and  is  going  to  start  in  to  practise  next 
fall." 

"  How  did  you  know  all  this?"  Evelyn 
asked. 

"  Dr.  Wendell  told  Mrs.  Perkins.  It  seems 
that  Mr.  Palmer  went  to  school  to  him  and  he 
has  a  great  admiration  and  affection  for  him. 
Well,  I  must  n't  stay  another  instant."  When 
she  reached  the  door  for  the  second  time,  she 
stopped  again  and  said  imploringly: 

"  Now  don't  make  him  fall  in  love  with 
you." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  want  him  to,"  Evelyn 
answered  honestly.  "  The  only  men  I  ever 
attempt  to  influence  are  millionaires,  and  even 
then  I  always  get  disgusted  with  myself  when 
I  have  got  them  to  a  certain  stage  and  give 
the  whole  thing  up.  With  ineligibles,  I  give 
myself  the  luxury  of  being  myself.  I  never 
try  to  please  them.  It  is  so  humiliating  to  try 
for  things." 

"And  do  ineligibles  never  care?"  asked 
Dolly. 

'  Yes,  that  is  the  worst,"  Evelyn  answered 
simply,  without  a  trace  of  complacency.  "  I 
succeed  better  when  I  don't  try  than  when  I 
do,  other  things  being  equal.  But  I  never 
want  them  to  care.  I  suppose  I  have  got  used 


1 6         The  Things  that  Count 

to  it;  but  it  does  n't  give  me  any  particular 
pleasure  and  it  hurts  them." 

"  I  believe  that  you  really  have  n't  any 
vanity,"  Dolly  exclaimed.  "  I  never  could 
see  any,  but  I  always  thought  that  I  must  be 
mistaken.  You  are  the  kind  of  a  girl  that  one 
would  expect  it  in." 

"  No,  I  am  not  vain,"  Evelyn  answered 
slowly,  evidently  more  absorbed  in  her  sewing 
than  in  her  words.  "  I  know  my  good  points 
perfectly,  but  I  am  never  acutely  conscious  of 
them.  It  is  one  of  my  few  virtues.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  am  often  acutely  conscious  of 
my  deficiencies." 

'  This  is  an  interesting  subject,  but — " 
Dolly  began. 

I  believe  you  really  do  find  it  interesting," 
said  Evelyn  as  Dolly  was  going  to  the  door  for 
the  third  time.  "  Now  I  should  n't  sit  up,  if 
I  wanted  to  go  to  bed,  for  the  pleasure  of  dis- 
cussing another  girl's  charms.  You  are  so  un- 
egotistical  that  you  make  me  hate  you.  Go 
to  bed  this  instant,  or  I  '11  put  you  out  by 
force!  "  She  sprang  to  her  feet,  dropping  her 
work  to  the  floor,  and  made  for  the  door,  but 
Dolly  was  gone  before  she  reached  it. 


CHAPTER    II 

ENTER   RICHARD   PALMER 

TO  anyone  for  whose  enlightenment  the  in- 
side history  of  the  move  had  not  been 
revealed,  Chenook  would  have  seemed  an 
unlikely  enough  place  for  Mrs.  Elisha  Perkins 
to  bring  her  suite  and  her  social  ambitions 
to.  To  admit  the  truth,  her  previous  sea- 
sons at  Bar  Harbor,  Newport,  and  Lenox  had 
not  been  so  successful  as  she  had  dreamed 
they  would  be.  She  had  had  to  content  her- 
self with  hovering  on  the  outskirts  of  the  de- 
sirable social  life  of  those  places.  She  was 
invited  to  some  big  things,  but  left  out — 
pointedly  left  out,  she  called  it  to  herself — of 
the  small  entertainments  which  her  soul 
desired.  , 

After  several  seasons  of  the  same  experience, 
she  resolved  to  try  another  plan.  She  would 
go  to  some  small,  exclusive  place,  where  her 
great  wealth  would  seem  of  more  consequence 

2 

17 


1 8         The  Things  that  Count 

than  at  the  larger  resorts.  Here,  no  doubt, 
she  could  work  herself  into  more  intimate  re- 
lations with  her  neighbours,  relations  that 
would  outlast  the  summer  and  serve  for  a  basis 
of  operations  the  following  winter  in  New 
York. 

Now  Chenook  was  the  place  that  naturally 
suggested  itself  to  her  as  most  suitable  for  her 
operations.  The  majority  of  the  families  who 
had  their  summer  homes  there  were  undeniably 
of  social  importance.  They  would  have  been 
of  consequence  anywhere.  Their  coming  to 
Chenook  was  unquestionably  a  matter  of 
choice.  There  was  no  lack  of  means  or 
prestige  to  make  it  necessary.  It  was  a  sig- 
nificant fact  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
rent  a  house  there.  There  were  none  to  let. 
The  families  who  prided  themselves  on  dis- 
covering the  place  owned  each  its  own  place, 
and  there  was  a  strong  esprit  de  corps  to  keep 
out  outsiders.  All  the  beautiful  wooded 
country  for  miles  around,  all  the  picturesque, 
rocky  seacoast,  was  bought  up  by  a  syndicate 
formed  of  the  summer  residents,  and  not  a 
foot  was  sold  except  under  rigid  conditions  and 
to  people  who  would  make  desirable  neigbours. 
The  difficulty  of  getting  into  Chenook  was  pro- 
verbial, but  this  only  stimulated  Mrs.  Perkins's 
determination  to  accomplish  it,  especially  as 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          19 

there  was  a  reason  why  it  seemed  at  that  time 
the  most  desirable  of  places  to  her.  It  was  at 
Chenook  that  the  Twiller  Van  Horns  had  their 
favourite  summer  place,  and  it  was  on  Mrs. 
Van  Horn  that  she  rested  her  hopes.  No 
matter  how  proud  that  lady  might  be,  she 
could  not  in  so  small  a  place  utterly  ignore  her 
niece's  employer. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  Mrs.  Perkins  heard 
betimes  though  her  lawyer  that  the  Arbuth- 
nots  had  had  great  financial  losses  which  would 
make  it  necessary  for  them  to  retrench  con- 
siderably. Now  the  Arbuthnots  had  the  hand- 
somest place  at  Chenook,  not  excepting  the 
Van  Horns'.  She  made  them  a  tempting  offer 
for  the  lease  of  it.  After  a  little  hesitation  it 
was  accepted.  There  was  nothing  particularly 
objectionable  about  Mrs.  Perkins,  and  the 
money  would  be  a  great  convenience.  The 
most  important  consideration,  however,  was 
that  she  might  be  a  purchaser,  and  purchasers 
for  white  elephants  of  country-houses  in  out- 
of-the-way  places,  even  if  the  place  was  Che- 
nook, are  extremely  difficult  to  find.  With 
this  point  in  view,  they  asked  their  old  neigh- 
bours to  be  friendly  and  hospitable  to  her  as  a 
particular  favour  to  themselves.  She  must  be 
made  to  find  the  place  attractive. 

It   had   been   only  three  weeks  since   Mrs. 


20         The  Things  that  Count 

Perkins  had  arrived  with  Dolly  and  Evelyn, 
but  already  she  felt  herself  an  acknowledged 
member  of  the  inner  circle  of  Chenook.  She 
had  met  all  the  principal  families,  with  the 
exception  of  the  Van  Horns,  who  were  not 
coming  down  until  later  in  the  summer.  This 
prompt  success,  beyond  her  utmost  hopes,  put 
her  in  great  good-humour.  There  was  not  the 
faintest  suspicion  on  her  part  that  this  cor- 
diality of  reception  was  due  in  a  great  measure 
to  the  two  girls.  Evelyn  always  charmed 
wherever  she  went,  and  Dolly,  in  spite  of  her 
dependent  position,  was  a  Van  Horn,  and  the 
Van  Horns  were  popular  at  Chenook. 

On  this,  the  night  of  her  first  dinner-party, 
the  evident  enjoyment  of  her  guests,  their  out- 
staying the  usual  time  for  departure,  made  Mrs. 
Perkins  feel  that  her  point  was  accomplished. 
Something  more  substantial  than  a  summer 
acquaintanceship  would  undoubtedly  be  formed 
before  she  went  back  to  New  York  in  the 
autumn.  She  could  not  help  recognising  how 
much  Evelyn  had  to  do  with  the  success  of 
this  particular  evening,  and  this  made  her 
gracious  to  her  when  they  met  at  luncheon  the 
next  day.  Mrs.  Perkins  always  devoted  the 
morning  hours,  from  eleven  to  one,  to  her  ac- 
counts and  an  active  superintendence  of  her 
own  housekeeping.  She  put  her  arm  around 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          21 

Evelyn's  waist  as  they  entered  the  dining-room 
together,  an  unusual  demonstration,  and  asked 
her  how  she  had  slept. 

'  There  was  not  a  single  bit  of  duckling 
left,"  she  began  when  she  was  seated  at  the 
table  with  the  two  girls.  '  I  don't  understand 
it.  I  am  sure  a  quantity  went  from  the  table, 
but  Miller  says  that  we  eat  every  scrap  and 
Joseph  backs  her  up." 

It  was  uncommonly  good,"  remarked 
Evelyn.  "  One  could  hardly  blame  the  cook 
for  appreciating  her  own  successes." 

It  is  something  that  I  never  will  stand,  and 
the  sooner  Miller  finds  it  out  the  better,"  Mrs. 
Perkins  continued.  "  I  do  not  believe  in  pam- 
pering servants.  They  have  plenty  of  good 
substantial  food  of  their  own,  and  I  won't  have 
them  stealing  what  comes  from  our  table. 
That  duckling  would  have  done  for  an  entree 
to-night  at  dinner.  I  think  I  discovered  an- 
other thing,"  she  went  on.  "  I  think  Ellen, 
the  laundry  maid,  steals  the  soap  and  trades  it 
for  anything  she  wants  at  Martin's." 

'What  makes  you  think  that?"  Evelyn 
asked,  out  of  politeness. 

"  It  goes  so  fast  and  Mary  swears  that  she 
does  n't  waste  it  or  let  Ellen.  And,  then,  I  met 
her  coming  out  of  the  store  the  other  afternoon 
and  she  looked  so  guilty  when  she  saw  me." 


22         The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  can  explain  that,"  said  Dolly.  "  James 
Martin  is  her  young  man.  They  were  keeping 
company  last  summer  when  I  was  here.  I  be- 
lieve they  are  to  be  married  next  fall." 

"  All  the  more  reason  why  he  would  be 
willing  to  take  .the  soap,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Perkins. 

"  But  they  are  not  that  kind,"  protested 
Dolly.  "  I  have  known  James  for  years." 

'  Well,  I  have  marked  the  wrapper  of 
every  cake  of  soap  with  a  cross  in  lead-pencil, 
and  I  shall  ask  to  see  the  soap  at  Martin's 
sometime  before  long  and  find  out  for 
myself." 

"I  am  sure  that  you  will  find  out  that  you 
are  mistaken,"  Dolly  persisted  with  a  certain 
quiet  firmness  that  always  overawed  Mrs. 
Perkins  when  she  made  use  of  it.  Evelyn 
would  have  been  silenced  at  her  first  protest 
with  a  cool,  "  Well,  if  you  know  more  about 
it  than  I  do — "  She  had  learned  by  experi- 
ence that  it  was  wiser  to  let  anything  pass, 
even  an  insult  to  her  dearest  friend,  rather  than 
attempt  any  expostulation.  An  honest  differ- 
ence of  opinion  was  a  desire  to  annoy  her  in 
Mrs.  Perkins's  eyes. 

"  Well,  perhaps.  Mary  is  sure  that  she 
does  n't,"  that  lady  replied;  and  when  Dolly 
went  on  to  say : 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          23 

"  My  aunt  has  the  greatest  confidence  in 
James.  In  fact,  she  likes  all  the  Martins,"  she 
added: 

"  I  suppose  it  does  take  a  great  deal  of  soap 
to  do  such  big  washings.  You  girls'  shirt- 
waists and  dresses  alone  must  take  a  couple  of 
bars  a  week." 

'  I  have  been  giving  my  washing  to  the 
Widow  Thomas,"  Dolly  remarked  calmly. 
Mrs.  Perkins  gave  her  a  sharp  glance. 

"  And  why  did  you  do  that  ?  "  she  de- 
manded. 

"  Because  you  have  spoken  once  before 
about  the  size  of  my  wash,  and  I  felt  like  a 
child  who  had  made  mud-pies  with  a  clean 
apron  on.  I  thought  I  'd  rather  be  independ- 
ent." Dolly  said  this  with  the  most  absolute 
good-humour. 

I  won't  have  that,"  Mrs.  Perkins  said  de- 
cidedly. "  My  dear  Dolly,  I  wish  you  to  have 
your  clothes  done  in  the  house." 

"  As  you  please,"  Dolly  answered  tran- 
quilly. "  Only  if  I  do,  I  will  have  as  many 
clean  shirtwaists  as  I  like.  Otherwise  I  am 
perfectly  ready  to  put  it  out." 

Half  a  dozen  if  you  like.  What  are  my 
laundresses  for  but  to  do  the  family  wash,  I  'd 
like  to  know  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Perkins.  "  I 
am  sure  they  have  an  easy  enough  time  of  it. 


24         The  Things  that  Count 

Lots  of  people  would  keep  only  one  with  a 
family  the  size  of  mine." 

;<  Dear  me,  I  envy  you  your  pull,"  Evelyn 
said  to  Dolly  as  the  two  girls  were  standing  by 
the  lily  pond  after  luncheon,  looking  to  see  if 
any  new  varieties  of  lilies  had  bloomed  since 
the  night  before.  "It  is  the  secret  of  your 
success  with  our  good  friend.  There  is  always 
the  idea  of  your  repeating  your  grievances  to 
Mrs.  Van  Horn.  I  should  have  been  allowed 
to  put  my  washing  out,  with  only  a  formal 
protest,  but  Mrs.  Van  Horn  might  think  it 
strange  if  you  were  allowed  to." 

"  I  wonder — "  Dolly  began,  and  then 
stopped. 

'  You  wonder  what  ?  " 

No  matter.     I  was  going  to  say  something 
impertinent." 

'  You  wonder  that  I  can  stand  the  depend- 
ence of  my  position  here — is  that  it  ?  " 

"  Something  of  that  nature." 

'  You  forget  that  it  is  only  a  choice  of  de- 
pendences for  me.  And  I  am  very  comfort- 
able here.  Our  good  hostess  has  her  faults, 
but  I  never  struck  one  that  did  n't.  Every- 
body on  this  earth  has  an  unforgivable  fault  if 
you  get  down  to  actual  facts.  A  certain 
amount  of  deliberate  eye-shutting  is  necessary 
if  you  don't  want  to  live  your  life  absolutely 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          25 

alone.  Now  I  like  Chenook/  Its  beauty  is  a 
perfect  delight  to  me  every  hour.  I  like  swim- 
ming and  boating  and  golf  and  bicycling,  and 
I  get  them  all  here.  I  like  the  freedom  of  the 
life  and  the  absence  of  crowds  and  fuss.  I  like 
Mrs.  Perkins's  cook  and  I  like  her  wines.  She 
keeps  good  horses  and  her  servants  are  oblig- 
ing. Lastly,  and  this  is  the  most  important, 
I  have  much  more  freedom  than  in  any  other 
house  I  could  go  to — there  are  three  or  four 
open  to  me.  In  all  the  others  I  should  have 
to  do  five  times  as  much  entertaining  and  hard 
work  of  that  kind.  In  one,  I  should  not  be 
allowed  ten  minutes  a  day  to  myself,  for  my 
hostess  is  a  woman  who  hates  her  own  society. 
In  another,  I  should  have  to  renovate  all  the 
daughter's  gowns.  She  has  an  inadequate  al- 
lowance, because  her  father  believes  that  girls 
should  be  taught  economy,  so  she  extracts 
gifts  by  judicious  hinting  among  her  wealthy 
friends,  and  every  spring  after  she  has  bought 
her  thin  clothes,  she  invites  me  to  make  them 
up  for  her.  Of  course  I  am  expected  to  offer 
to  do  it.  She  is  always  hunting  for  cheap 
sewing-women  to  make  her  underclothes  and 
then  she  jews  them  down.  And  she  never 
pays  her  dues  in  any  club  or  anything  of  that 
sort  unless  she  is  positively  forced  into  it.  She 
has  only  six  hundred  a  year,  when  her  father  is 


26         The  Things  that  Count 

worth  five  millions,  and  they  live  on  a  propor- 
tionate scale.  I  have  often  been  tempted  to 
tell  him  what  I  think  of  it.  I  want  to  tell  him 
the  harm  he  is  doing  her  by  leading  her 
into  mean,  underhand,  almost  dishonest 
ways. 

'  Why  don't  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  My  dear  girl,  you  forget  that  I  never  tell 
people  what  I  really  think  of  them.  It  is  a 
luxury  that  I  cannot  afford.  Besides,  you 
see,  there  might  be  certain  things  that  he 
does  n't  approve  of  about  me.  But  to  return 
to  my  subject :  I  stay  here  because  Mrs.  Perkins 
is  a  woman  of  so  many  pursuits  that  it  leaves 
me  very  free,  and  because  her  economy  keeps 
her  from  having  the  house  full,  which  is  a  great 
relief.  As  to  my  lack  of  independence,  you 
must  acknowledge,  whether  you  approve  of  my 
way  of  doing  it  or  not,  that  I  do  earn  my 
board — yes,  and  my  washing,  too,  in  spite  of 
the  amount  of  soap  it  takes.  Well,  I  must  go 
and  get  my  hat.  The  ponies  will  be  around  in 
a  few  minutes.  I  am  going  to  exercise  them 
for  Mrs.  Perkins." 

"  What,  so  early  ?" 

'  There  are  some  people  coming  to  call  later. 
We  are  to  have  tea  under  the  big  chestnut  and 
I  shall  be  wanted  to  make  myself  generally 
agreeable.  I  hope  to  goodness  they  won't  ask 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          27 

me  to  sing.  Don't  you  want  to  come  with  me 
now  ?  " 

''  I  can't  possibly.  Mrs.  Perkins  is  going  to 
dictate  some  business  letters  to  me  and  I  have 
some  of  her  farmers'  daughters'  letters  to  an- 
swer as  usual." 

"  In  any  other  house  I  'd  have  to  put  in  my 
afternoon  entertaining  my  hostess,"  said  Eve- 
lyn as  they  walked  back  to  the  house. 

It  was  such  a  lovely  day  and  the  road  through 
the  woods  was  so  beautiful  that  Evelyn  drove 
slowly.  She  had  not  brought  a  groom  with 
her,  and  she  enjoyed  the  unaccustomed  sense 
of  freedom  and  solitude.  The  ponies  were 
lazy  little  beasts  and  were  only  too  glad  to 
loiter.  Consequently  it  was  half-past  four  be- 
fore she  got  home  and  she  had  to  dress  in  a 
hurry  to  be  ready  to  receive  their  guests. 

Evelyn  was  not  particularly  impressed  with 
the  exclusive  residents  of  Chenook.  They 
seemed  commonplace  people,  with  nothing  to 
distinguish  them  from  the  rest  of  the  world  ex- 
cept the  aureola  of  wealth  and  fashion.  In 
Mrs.  Perkins's  eyes  they  were  all  that  was 
charming,  and  would  be  so  as  long  as  they 
showed  a  proper  appreciation  of  her  own 
charms.  If  this  failed,  she  would  at  once  dis- 
cover the  unforgivable  fault  of  each  one  of 
them.  Evelyn  felt  this  afternoon  that  they 


28         The  Things  that  Count 

would  never  go,  but  she  did  not  on  that  ac- 
count relax  any  of  her  efforts  to  make  them 
stay. 

'  This  having  so  much  time  to  myself  is 
spoiling  me,"  she  said  to  herself  when  they 
had  at  last  gone  and  she  was  strolling  down 
the  path  which  led  through  the  pines,  over 
the  sand-dune  to  the  beach.  She  made  a  very 
attractive  figure  in  her  red  and  white  dimity 
waist  and  white  piqu£  skirt,  with  red  stock, 
belt,  and  shoes.  An  occasional  gleam  of  sun- 
shine finding  its  way  through  the  trees  turned 
her  curly  light-brown  hair  to  gold.  She  had 
picked  a  large  brake  and  was  holding  it  up  to 
protect  her  eyes.  As  she  stepped  down  on 
the  beach,  she  saw  two  figures  coming  over 
the  brown  sand,  packed  hard  by  the  receding 
tide.  It  was  Cyril  and  his  tutor,  and  for  the 
first  time  that  day  she  remembered  their  ex- 
pected arrival.  She  shook  hands  with  the 
former,  who  was  apparently  not  very  glad  to 
see  her,  and  who  introduced  her  sulkily  to  Mr. 
Palmer. 

"  You  don't  seem  surprised  to  see  me  here, 
Cyril,"  Evelyn  said. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  you  were  here,"  he  replied  in- 
differently, betraying  an  unflattering  anxiety 
to  move  on.  But  Evelyn  was  not  accustomed  to 
such  treatment,  and  it  amused  her  to  tease  him. 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          29 

"  Did  n't  someone  meet  you  ?  I  know  the 
waggonette  went  down  to  the  steamer  to  get 
the  letters." 

"  We  sent  our  things  by  it  and  walked.  It 
was  such  a  nice  evening  and  we  had  been  sit- 
ting so  long,"  said  Mr.  Palmer.  He  had  a 
pleasant  voice  and  a  quiet,  agreeable  manner. 

"  Come  on.  We  'd  better  be  going,"  Cyril 
said  rudely.  Mr.  Palmer  took  no  notice,  but 
asked  Evelyn  if  she  were  not  going  back  to  the 
house.  His  manner  was  pointedly  courteous. 
She  turned  and  went  with  him,  Cyril  walking 
silently  ahead. 

She  did  not  stay  in  the  house  after  they  had 
left  her  to  go  to  their  rooms,  but,  taking  the 
paper  which  had  just  arrived,  she  went  out 
under  the  trees  to  read  it.  She  found  it  useful 
to  be  thoroughly  posted  on  what  was  happen- 
ing in  the  world. 

Dinner  was  pleasant.  Mr.  Palmer  proved 
himself  much  at  ease  and  master  of  the  situa- 
tion. Cyril  was  sulky  and  hardly  said  a  word. 
Evelyn  he  completely  ignored.  She  herself 
was  conscious  of  appearing  well  and  the  con- 
sciousness pleased  her.  The  new  tutor  was 
distinctly  worth  while  as  a  man,  if  he  did  not 
have  twenty-five  thousand  a  year. 

After  dinner  Cyril  took  him  off  for  a  smoke. 
Evelyn  went  to  the  drawing-room  with  the 


30         The  Things  that  Count 

others,  but  presently  she  remembered  that  she 
had  left  the  paper  out  under  the  big  chestnut 
and  that  Mrs.  Perkins  always  took  it  up  to  bed 
with  her.  She  went  out  and  found  it  where 
she  had  left  it,  and  then  came  back  by  a  short 
cut  across  the  lawn.  She  had  not  known  where 
the  men  were,  but  when  she  was  directly  under 
the  library  window,  her  feet  making  no  sound 
on  the  soft  turf,  she  heard  their  voices  within 
and  these  words  reached  her.  Evidently  she 
had  drawn  near  during  a  pause. 

"  And  the  other  girl,  Miss  Smith  ?  "  It  was 
Cyril's  voice  that  answered. 

"  She  's  a  hanger-on  of  my  mother's,  one  of 
those  women  who  live  on  their  wealthy  friends 
instead  of  earning  an  honest  living  for  them- 
selves. She  's  pretty  and  attractive  enough,  I 
admit ;  but  if  you  knew  as  much  of  her  as  I  do, 
you  'd  despise  her  as  I  do.  She  is  wild  to  get 
married,  but  you  need  n't  be  worried.  She  has 
n't  any  use  for  a  poor  man  except  to  make  him 
miserable.  I  could  tell  you  stories  about  her 
goings-on.  She  's  a  regular  toady  and  backs 
my  mother  up  in  all  her  schemes  by  way  of 
keeping  in  with  her.  She  's  clever,  clever  as 
the  devil,  and  she  knows  how  to  fawn  on  a 
person  while  appearing  to  be  standing  straight 
up.  You  won't  have  any  use  for  her  when 
you  know  her." 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          31 

"  My  dear  Cyril,  you  are  the  most  uncom- 
promising young  person  I  have  ever  known," 
Palmer  replied. 

Evelyn  was  standing  perfectly  still,  struck 
motionless  by  these  words,  but  now  she 
gathered  up  strength  enough  to  move  on. 
She  made  her  way  back  to  the  drawing-room  in 
a  half-dazed  fashion,  left  the  paper  there,  and 
excused  herself  on  the  ground  of  not  feeling 
well.  It  was  not  until  she  had  reached  her 
room,  had  taken  her  gown  off  in  her  usual 
careful  fashion,  and  had  thrown  herself  on  the 
couch  by  the  window,  that  she  really  felt  the 
force  of  the  words  which  she  had  overheard. 
When  she  began  to  realise  what  they  meant, 
she  felt  sick  all  over.  She  began  to  shiver, 
and  pulled  a  rug  up  around  her,  burying  her 
face  in  the  pillow  with  a  despairing  cry  of— 

"  It  is  n't  true.  It  can't  be  true."  She 
uttered  meaningless  ejaculations  and  her  whole 
body  was  shaken  by  tearless,  convulsive  sobs. 
Cyril  had  been  too  cruel. 

It  was  characteristic  of  her  that  in  the  midst 
of  her  unhappiness  she  did  not  feel  any  resent- 
ment towards  him.  She  saw  no  reason  why 
he  should  not  say  what  he  did  if  he  believed 
it,  and  if  he  believed  it,  there  must  certainly  be 
some  ground  for  his  belief.  Even  before  she 
fully  took  in  their  meaning,  his  words  were 


32         The  Things  that  Count 

ineffaceably  printed  on  her  mind,  and  now  she 
said  them  over,  examining  charge  after  charge. 
The  conclusion  that  she  arrived  at  was  that 
there  was  undoubtedly  truth  in  them,  but  that 
they  were  not  true.  The  sketch  that  Cyril 
had  made  was  a  caricature.  The  next  ques- 
tion to  decide  was  what  to  do  about  it.  There 
was  only  one  answer  possible.  Nothing  at  all. 
She  thought  of  telling  Dolly,  but  she  shrank 
even  from  the  idea.  It  was  too  hideously 
painful  to  mention. 

Her  one  consolation  was  that  Dolly  believed 
in  her  and  that  she  and  Mr.  Palmer  would 
undoubtedly  become  friends.  They  had  been 
attracted  to  each  other  immediately  and  Cyril 
liked  her.  Doubtless  in  time  Dolly  would  dis- 
cuss her,  Evelyn, with  him  and  give  him  a  differ- 
ent idea  of  her.  But  this  might  be  a  long  time 
off.  Here  Palmer's  face  rose  clearly  before  her 
and  she  realised  for  the  first  time  that  he  was 
unusually  good  to  look  at.  It  was  a  face  that 
grew  on  one  rather  than  suggested  beauty  at  the 
first  sight,  and  yet,  now  that  she  had  realised 
the  fact,  she  wondered  that  she  had  not  seen 
his  good  looks  the  first  moment  she  looked  at 
him.  They  were  a  little  of  an  Irish  type,  with 
deep  blue  eyes,  a  thick  mass  of  dark  cloudy 
hair,  straight,  rather  small  white  teeth,  and  a 
skin  through  which  a  deep  flesh  tint  was  visible. 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          33 

It  did  not  seem  to  be  highly  coloured  on  the 
surface  so  much  as  a  little  way  down.  There 
was  a  clean,  fresh,  transparent  and  yet  healthy 
look  to  his  complexion.  He  was  clean-shaven, 
probably  from  necessity  as  well  as  choice.  He 
was  only  a  little  over  medium  height  and  slight, 
but  with  an  appearance  of  strength  and  manli- 
ness, being  thoroughly  masculine  down  to  the 
smallest  of  his  few  gestures.  His  personality 
was  entirely  pleasing. 

It  was  a  most  miserable  evening  that  Evelyn 
spent  there  on  the  couch  in  the  darkness.  It 
was  chilly.  A  fog  had  come  in- from  the 
ocean,  and  she  longed  for  a  fire  with  an  exag- 
gerated longing.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she 
would  be  much  less  unhappy  if  she  were  only 
not  so  cold.  As  she  lay  there  shivering,  she 
went  over  the  life  that  had  made  her  what  she 
was,  trying  to  see  if  there  was  any  point  at 
which  she  had  deliberately  chosen  her  way. 
It  seemed  not.  Her  steps  had  always  been 
directed  by  circumstances.  She  had  never 
been  a  free  agent,  though  doubtless  (so  she 
admitted  to  herself)  a  woman  with  less  love  of 
the  flesh-pots  and  greater  consideration  for  her 
own  dignity  would  have  reduced  circumstances 
to  submission  by  her  own  will. 

A  rich  aunt  of  her  father's  had  adopted  her 
when  she  was  twelve  years  old,  shortly  after 


34         The  Things  that  Count 

her  father's  death.  She  had  taken  her  out  of 
a  poor,  uncongenial  home,  and  had  treated  her 
like  her  own  daughter,  but  always  with  the 
distinct  understanding  that  she  was  not  to  be 
her  heiress.  Her  money  was  to  go  back  to  her 
husband's  family  from  which  it  had  come. 
Still,  she  was  a  vigorous  woman  and  it  was 
tacitly  assumed  that  she  would  live  to  see 
Evelyn  well  settled  in  life.  She  died  sud- 
denly, however,  when  Evelyn  was  twenty,  and 
left  her  a  sum  of  money  in  the  hands  of  trust- 
ees, the  income  of  which,  amounting  to  five 
hundred  dollars  a  year,  was  to  be  hers  for  life. 
Evelyn  had  made  a  great  many  friends,  and 
she  was  first  invited  to  visit  one  and  then  an- 
other until  visiting  had  come  to  be  her  regular 
life.  The  alternative  was  living  in  a  lodging- 
house  in  Jersey  City  with  a  mother  who  taught 
elocution  and  gave  readings  for  a  living  and  a 
sister  who  was  cashier  in  a  candy-store.  It 
was  not  an  atmosphere  that  Evelyn  felt  at 
home  in.  She  often  rebelled  against  the  other 
life  into  which  she  had  drifted,  but  when  she 
thought  of  the  alternative,  its  objectionable 
features  seemed  to  matter  less.  It  was  un- 
doubtedly doing  her  harm  morally,  but  it  was 
not  making  her  acutely,  physically  unhappy 
every  moment  of  the  day. 

If  she  had  had  any  especial  talent,  she  would 


Enter  Richard  Palmer          35 

have  tried  to  make  a  career  for  herself.  If  she 
had  even  worked  at  her  music  when  she  was 
younger;  but  she  had  preferred  playing  by  ear 
to  practising  scales.  Or  if  she  had  had  any 
resources  in  herself,  she  could  have  gone  away 
into  the  country  somewhere,  where  she  could 
have  had  air  and  sunshine  and  cleanliness  for  a 
small  sum.  But  what  would  she  do  with  her- 
self on  snowbound  days  and  in  long  spring 
twilights  ?  She  liked  to  read,  but  one  could 
not  read  all  the  time.  Besides,  she  would  not 
be  able  to  get  books.  There  would  not  even 
be  the  need  of  making  herself  clothes  when 
she  had  no  opportunities  for  wearing  them. 
Then,  too,  she  realised  that  the  only  satis- 
factory life  for  her  would  be  as  the  wife  of  a 
man  she  loved — she  was  too  essentially  femi- 
nine to  be  satisfied  with  anything  else;  and  to 
bury  herself  in  the  country  would  be  practi- 
cally to  put  an  end  to  that  possibility.  Evelyn 
always  gave  to  herself  the  intention  of  marry- 
ing for  money,  and  she  most  certainly  had  no 
intention  of  marrying  without  it;  but  while 
she  reasoned  that,  by  the  doctrine  of  chances, 
it  was  impossible  that  a  man  with  the  worldly 
advantages  she  considered  necessary  could  have 
the  additional  qualifications  for  arousing  her 
love,  yet  she  inconsistently  hoped,  almost  be- 
lieved, that  the  miracle  would  come  to  pass. 


36         The  Things  that  Count 

At  all  events,  she  would  not  deliberately  put 
herself  outside  the  chance  of  its  happening, 
and  that  was  what  any  change  in  her  manner 
of  life  would  mean. 

At  last  she  got  up,  slipped  off  her  clothes, 
and  crawled  into  bed,  too  utterly  miserable  to 
care  that  she  had  left  them  in  a  heap  on  the 
floor  instead  of  arranged  in  her  usual  orderly 
style. 


CHAPTER   III 

CRUMBLING   IDOLS 

EVELYN  kept  to  herself  as  much  as  possible 
the  next  day.  She  put  a  little  distance 
into  her  manner  to  Palmer  at  luncheon  and 
dinner,  being  determined  not  to  put  herself  in 
the  position  of  making  advances  that  might 
be  ignored.  All  the  time  she  kept  wondering 
to  what  motive  he  would  attribute  her  change 
of  attitude,  for  it  was  certain  that  he  would 
perceive  it.  He  was  evidently  a  man  on  whom 
no  intention  would  be  lost.  Would  he  think 
that  she  had  decided  that  his  impecuniosity 
was  not  worth  pleasing,  or  simply  that  she  was 
capricious;  or  would  he  think  it  merely  a 
manoeuvre  in  the  game,  an  attempt  to  attract 
him  by  an  old  pose  ?  She  felt  a  good  deal  of 
curiosity  on  the  subject,  but  there  appeared  to 
be  no  way  to  satisfy  it. 

It  was  arranged  that  Dolly  should  take  him 
that   afternoon    on    a    hunt    for    satisfactory 
37 


38         The  Things  that  Count 

quarters  in  the  neighbourhood.  Evelyn  went 
with  Mrs.  Perkins  to  return  some  calls,  and  on 
their  way  back  they  passed  the  other  two  stroll- 
ing along  the  wooded  road,  laughing  and  talk- 
ing and  having  apparently  the  best  kind  of  a 
time  together. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast,  which  they 
all  took  together  on  Sunday,  Cyril  announced 
that  he  and  Mr.  Palmer  were  going  to  sail  over 
to  Bay  Island. 

'  My  dear  Cyril,  I  wish  that  you  would  go 
to  church  with  me,"  protested  his  mother. 
"It  looks  so  much  better  to  have  a  man  to  sit  at 
the  end  of  the  pew.  I  noticed  last  Sunday  that 
there  was  one  in  nearly  every  pew  except  ours. ' ' 

"  Not  under  sixty,  I  '11  bet." 

"  Besides,  I  am  sure  Mr.  Palmer  would  pre- 
fer to  go  to  church  with  us,"  she  continued, 
without  taking  any  notice  of  her  son's  remark. 
"  Would  n't  you,  Mr.  Palmer  ?  "  she  asked, 
appealing  directly  to  that  young  man. 

"  Mrs.  Perkins,  I  have  n't  been  in  a  boat  for 
two  years,  and  there  is  a  delicious  little  breeze, 
and  Bay  Island  has  such  a  mysterious,  alluring, 
mirage-like  effect  that  I  am  anxious  to  explore 
it.  Now  church  I  know  all  about,  but  I  have 
never,  in  all  my  life,  been  on  a  little  wooded 
island  in  the  ocean.  Excuse  me,  won't  you, 
please  ?"  He  said  this  so  persuasively  that 


Crumbling  Idols  39 

Mrs.  Perkins  relented,  though  she  was  gener- 
ally indisposed  to  accept  excuses  for  staying 
away  from  church. 

'  Well,  Dolly,  you  are  coming  of  course  ?  " 
"  Not  if  I  can  persuade  Cyril  and  Mr.  Palmer 
to  take  me  with  them.  I,  too,  have  an  un- 
satisfied longing  to  explore  Bay  Island,  and  I 
have  had  it  a  great  deal  longer  than  Mr.  Palmer 
has  had  his.  I  have  sailed  within  shouting 
distance  of  it  half  a  dozen  times,  but  there  was 
always  some  reason  why  we  could  n't  land. 
Either  it  was  too  late  or  the  tide  was  n't  right, 
or  the  wind  or  something." 

'  Well,  Evelyn  and  I  will  have  to  represent 
the  family  then,"  said  Mrs.  Perkins  resignedly, 
accepting  Dolly's  words  as  final,  as  she  always 
did. 

Evelyn  felt  humiliated  that  she  was  not  a 
free  agent  as  the  others  were,  a  feeling  that 
was  the  keener  because  the  fact  was  tacitly 
acknowledged  by  them  all.  No  one  even  sug- 
gested that  she  should  go  with  them,  as  polite- 
ness would  have  demanded  under  different 
circumstances.  In  addition  to  her  mortifica- 
tion, she  felt  a  keen  pang  of  disappointment 
that  she  should  not  have  the  trip.  It  was  not 
often  of  late  years  that  she  desired  any  par- 
ticular thing  strongly  enough  to  feel  disap- 
pointed if  she  could  not  have  it,  and  the 


40         The  Things  that  Count 

intensity  of  her  feeling  on  this  occasion  sur- 
prised her.  But  the  sun  was  scattering  span- 
gles over  the  tops  of  the  green  waves  that  an 
enterprising  little  breeze  had  ruffled  up.  Bay 
Island  lay  alluring  and  approachable  in  the 
clear  distance,  much  more  attainable  than 
when,  as  usually  happened,  a  haze  veiled  its 
outlines  and  gave  it  the  mysterious,  mirage-like 
effect  of  which  Palmer  had  spoken.  It  would 
be  a  delight  to  sit  in  the  bow  and  feel  the  salt 
on  her  lips,  to  let  the  breeze  blow  back  the  hair 
from  her  face  and  the  spray  curl  it  in  little 
tight  rings.  It  would  be  a  glimpse  of  a  larger, 
freer,  less  perplexing  existence,  in  which  per- 
haps Palmer  would  divine  —  she  would  make 
no  effort  to  prove  it  to  him  —  that  she  was  not 
yet  quite  what  Cyril  represented  her  to  be. 
But  this  was  not  to  be.  From  her  window,  she 
watched  them  set  forth  down  the  path  through 
the  pines  over  the  sand-dune  to  the  beach. 
Dolly  had  on  her  mackintosh  and  a  Tarn 
o'Shanter  cap  that  was  especially  unbecoming, 
as  Evelyn  noticed  with  a  satisfaction  of  which 
she  was  very  much  ashamed  when  she  recog- 
nised it.  She  and  Cyril  had  always  been 
allies,  and  now  they  seemed  to  have  included 
Palmer.  Evelyn  saw  in  anticipation  a  number 
of  good  times  for  the  three  from  which  she. 
would  necessarily  be  excluded. 


Crumbling  Idols  41 

Dolly  was  a  continual  puzzle  to  her,  and  Eve- 
lyn found  herself  thinking  of  her  on  all  occasions. 
She  neglected  or  fell  short  of  every  principle 
that  Evelyn  had  ever  heard  laid  down  or  had 
herself  evolved  in  the  art  of  charming,  and  yet, 
someway,  she  pleased  (if  she  did  not  charm)  in 
spite  of  it  all.  She  was  plain  of  feature, 
stumpy  and  ungraceful  of  figure,  unskilled  in 
dress,  lacking  in  conventional  manners,  thor- 
oughly impolitic,  and  uncompromisingly  truth- 
ful; yet  she  did  not  make  enemies.  Evelyn 
liked  her,  and  many  loved  her,  if  they  did  not 
fall  in  love  with  her;  and  the  only  reason  for 
this  limitation,  so  Evelyn  decided,  was  that 
she  was  hopelessly  matter-of-fact.  If  she  had 
been  given  a  grain  more  of  sentiment,  a  sus- 
picion of  imagination,  men  would  readily  have 
overlooked  her  lack  of  personal  charm  (so 
Evelyn  thought)  and  have  fallen  in  love  in  a 
genuine,  enduring  way  with  her  true,  lovable 
self.  Evelyn  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
secret  of  her  charm  was  the  absolute  kindliness 
of  her  nature,  her  real  love  for  her  fellow- 
creatures.  She  had  the  unusual  combination 
of  uncommon  strength  of  character  and  genuine 
kindness  of  heart.  She  had  not  one  trace  of 
envy  or  jealousy  in  her  composition.  Her 
complete  ascendancy  over  Mrs.  Perkins  was  a 
revelation.  Evelyn  had  not  been  at  Chenook 


42         The  Things  that  Count 

a  week  before  she  decided  that  that  lady 
cared  as  much  for  her  independent  secretary  as 
she  had  it  in  her  power  to  care  for  anybody. 
Dolly  treated  her  to  the  bluntest  home-truths, 
took  her  own  way  about  everything  that  did 
not  concern  her  work  in  the  most  uncom- 
promising manner;  but  the  more  frank  and 
independent  she  was,  the  more  Mrs.  Perkins 
deferred  to  her,  while  if  Evelyn  dared  to  make 
the  smallest  stand,  she  was  rebuked  or  frozen 
back  into  submission.  Evelyn  decided  that  it 
was  Dolly's  perfect  cleanness  of  conscience  that 
made  her  so  fearless  and  so  invincible.  She 
was  absolutely  disinterested  and  absolutely 
sincere.  Hers  was  the  attitude  of  one  who  has 
nothing  to  hide  and  no  favours  to  ask.  There 
were  likewise  no  truths,  or  half-  or  quarter- 
truths,  that  Dolly  need  dread. 

Evelyn  went  over  all  this  ground  again  as 
she  was  dressing  for  church.  She  had  finished 
her  lavender  and  white  gown  the  night  before, 
and  she  put  it  on  now,  together  with  a  hat 
trimmed  with  white  tulle  and  violets,  for  the 
day  promised  to  be  warm.  The  costume  was 
so  becoming  that  her  spirits  rose  for  a  few 
minutes,  but  dropped  again  by  the  time  she 
had  gone  down-stairs  and  joined  Mrs.  Perkins 
in  the  carriage. 

As  they  walked  up  the  steps  of  the  little 


Crumbling  Idols  43 

church  in  their  pretty  summer  clothes,  Evelyn 
felt  more  than  ever  the  contrast  between  her 
morning  and  that  of  the  others, — the  one 
limited  and  conventional,  the  other  free  and 
open. 

Mrs.  Perkins  performed  her  devotions  so 
beautifully  that  Evelyn  took  a  certain  ma- 
licious pleasure  in  watching  her.  It  was  only 
three  years  since  she  had  left  the  fold  of  Con- 
gregationalism in  which  she  had  been  brought 
up  for  the  more  aristocratic  enclosures  of  the 
Church,  as  she  invariably  called  it.  She  took 
all  her  postures,  did  all  her  genuflections,  with 
the  conscious  pride  in  their  perfection  that 
only  a  proselyte  feels.  Evelyn  could  imagine 
her  casting  a  mental  eye  around  and  saying: 
11  Just  see  me,  how  well  I  do  it.  Did  you  ever 
see  anything  more  becomingly  reverent,  more 
absolutely  churchly,  than  that  little  duck  of  my 
knees  ?  And  see,  I  bow  clear  down  to  my 
waist ;  and  when  I  kneel,  I  really  kneel.  I 
simply  could  n't  sit  on  the  edge  of  my  seat  as 
some  poor  Low  Church  people  do."  Evelyn 
herself  felt  a  perverse  satisfaction  in  taking  no 
part  in  the  service  whatever,  except  rising  and 
kneeling  at  the  proper  times.  At  least,  they 
could  not  deny  her  that  independence. 

The  service  was  conducted  better  and  the 
church  more  generously  supported  than  most 


44         The  Things  that  Count 

little  country  churches;  for  the  summer  resi- 
dents gave  liberal  subscriptions.  The  rector 
was  musical  and  the  dream  of  his  life  was  to 
have  a  surpliced  choir  of  boys;  but  as  that  was 
an  impossibility,  he  put  a  great  deal  of  energy 
into  training  some  of  the  best  voices  in  the 
neighbourhood.  Usually  Evelyn  sang  too, 
but  to-day  she  felt  too  listless.  The  service 
was  terribly  long,  as  everything  that  could  pos- 
sibly be  sung  or  intoned  was  sung  or  intoned ; 
and  she  grew  so  tired  that  not  even  planning 
new  clothes,  about  which  she  had  special  in- 
spirations in  church,  could  keep  her  from  re- 
membering how  bored  she  was.  She  knew 
that  she  was  unjust,  but  the  worship  did  not 
seem  genuine  to  her.  She  felt  that  she  would 
have  been  much  more  ready  to  believe  in  the 
sincerity  of  the  worshippers  if  the  form  had 
not  been  made  so  prominent.  The  majority 
of  minds  to  whom  candles,  robes,  decorations, 
and  other  small  material  objects  were  of  vital 
importance,  who  gave  an  artificial  value  to 
trifles  which  had  none  in  themselves,  could 
hardly  be  large  enough  to  grasp  the  spiritual 
truths  which  were  supposed  to  lie  back  of  the 
form. 

Evelyn  caught  herself  up  with  a  mental 
start  when  she  found  these  thoughts  going 
through  her  head.  They  were  heresy  to  all 


Crumbling  Idols  45 

her  ideals.  If  she  once  questioned  the  value 
of  form  in  anything,  she  would  have  to  ac- 
knowledge that  her  life  had  been  a  hideous 
failure.  Her  thoughts  went  back  to  the  days 
when  she  had  first  gone  to  live  with  her  aunt, 
when  the  beauty  of  the  Church  service  had 
been  a  revelation  to  her,  brought  up  as  she  had 
been  in  the  nakedness  of  Presbyterianism. 
Then  the  lights  on  the  altar,  the  flowers,  the 
music  had  given  her  the  same  sensuous  enjoy- 
ment that  a  sentimental  love-story  or  the  sound 
of  a  violin  gave.  For  a  time  she  had  mistaken 
the  satisfaction  of  gratified  senses  for  a  religious 
impulse,  and  went  to  church  on  saints'  days, 
and  denied  herself  butter  and  other  harmless 
indulgences  in  Lent  with  a  conscious  pride  in 
the  aesthetic  and  social  superiority  of  the 
Church.  This  phantom  of  religion  had  dis- 
appeared, together  with  the  taste  for  Mrs. 
Browning,  "The  Duchess,"  and  Tosti's  songs, 
at  the  dawning  of  a  truer  knowledge  of  the 
world.  It  had  not  been  a  genuine  feeling, 
simply  one  of  the  many  illusions  of  the  days 
when  young  ladyhood  was  veiled  in  a  mist  of 
romance  and  sentimental  interest,  and  the  out- 
lines of  her  ignorance  had  been  so  vast  that 
there  was  room  for  all  possibilities  within  their 
boundaries. 

It  gave  her  a  shock  to  discover  all  at  once 


46         The  Things  that  Count 

how  far  she  had  drifted  from  the  feelings  of 
those  days  without  being  conscious  of  it. 
She  had  been  drifting  when  she  supposed,  or 
would  have  supposed  if  she  had  thought  about 
it,  that  she  was  securely  tied.  She  had  be- 
lieved herself  to  be  in  sympathy  with  the 
Church  service,  and  in  a  moment,  as  it  were, 
she  found  herself  in  an  antagonistic  attitude 
towards  it.  She  had  believed  it  a  giant,  and 
lo !  it  appeared  to  her  in  the  guise  of  a  dwarf. 
It  made  her  remember  a  dolls'  house  that  she 
had  admired  and  coveted  in  her  childhood,  a 
huge  structure,  as  big  and  as  imposing  as  the 
Waldorf-Astoria.  She  had  seen  it  again,  after 
an  interval  of  several  years,  and  it  was  no 
larger  than  a  big  dry-goods  box.  Her  present 
discovery  frightened  her,  for  it  was  for  the 
form,  the  outside  appearance  of  things,  the 
way  they  were  staged,  that  she  had  sacrificed 
her  independence  and  the  respect  of  many  of 
her  acquaintances.  If  she  lost  her  belief  in  the 
supreme  importance  of  form,  what  was  there 
left  for  her  ?  Her  present  life  would  be  no 
longer  possible. 

Now  that  this  idea  had  once  introduced  itself 
into  her  brain,  a  thousand  instances  of  this 
terrifying  new  tendency  of  hers  came  in  its 
wake.  Society  was  no  longer  God  to  her. 
Trifles  which  she  had  deified  into  principles 


Crumbling  Idols  47 

no  longer  seemed  of  vital  importance.  It  was 
no  longer  sufficient  for  her  that  a  person  should 
be  prominent  in  the  social  world  to  make  the 
acquaintance  desirable.  She  demanded  per- 
sonal importance  as  well,  and  if  she  found  that, 
as  in  Palmer,  for  instance,  the  other  seemed  to 
matter  less  and  less.  Even  her  clothes  were 
not  so  absorbing  as  they  once  had  been,  for  she 
noticed  in  herself  a  growing  tendency  to  de- 
preciate trifling  differences  in  sleeves,  stocks, 
and  the  cut  of  skirts.  She  had  been  wearing 
a  linen  skirt  of  last  year's  pattern  quite  com- 
fortably for  a  couple  of  days.  She  had  noticed, 
too  (so  she  thought  as  she  proceeded  in  her 
self-examination), — she  had  noticed  an  indiffer- 
ence, a  negligence  in  the  matter  of  social  duties. 
It  was  simply  an  unessential  trifle  that  it  was 
better  to  observe,  not  a  principle  any  longer, 
that  first  calls  should  be  returned,  or  dinner 
calls  made,  within  a  week.  What  did  it  matter 
anyway  ?  Her  mail  had  ceased  to  interest  her, 
now  that  possible  invitations  were  no  longer 
alluring.  What  did  she  care  if  Mrs.  Croesus 
invited  her  to  dinner,  when  the  only  possible 
advantage  to  be  gained  would  be  further  invi- 
tations to  entertainments  that  would  bore  her 
as  much  as  this  one  would  ? 


CHAPTER   IV 

A  COMPACT 

SHE  expressed  a  little  of  what  had  been 
passing  in  her  mind  to  Dolly  that  after- 
noon when  the  two  girls  were  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  pine  wood  by  the  ocean.  Evelyn 
was  lying  on  the  sand  with  a  novel  that  she 
was  not  reading  when  Dolly  came  and  joined 
her.  The  sailing  -  party  had  been  late  to 
luncheon  and  she  had  not  seen  any  of  them 
before.  Dolly  had  changed  her  gown  and  was 
more  harmoniously  dressed  than  usual,  but  her 
face  was  badly  sunburned. 

'  I  went  to  your  room  just  now,  but  I 
could  n't  find  you,  and  nobody  had  seen  any- 
thing of  you,  so  I  guessed  that  you  were  over 
here  somewhere,"  she  said,  flinging  herself 
down  on  the  warm  sand,  which  was  strewn  with 
a  coating  of  brown  needles.  '  What  have 
you  been  doing  with  yourself  all  day  ?  " 

'  Thinking  mostly.  After  luncheon  I  came 
48 


A  Compact  49 

out  here  to  read,  but  I  have  n't  read  a  word. 
I  have  been  thinking  hard."  She  paused  and 
then  went  on:  "  I  was  just  wondering  how  it 
would  be  if  I  lived  on  the  west  side  of  a  con- 
tinent and  the  sun  set  in  the  ocean.  Do  you 
know,  I  think  it  would  be  more  appropriate 
some  way.  Perhaps  it  is  owing  to  a  picture  in 
my  geography,  but  when  I  think  of  the  sun's 
setting,  I  always  think  of  it  as  setting  in  the 
ocean.  Don't  you  know — a  fiery  disc  with  a 
fan  of  rays  spreading  out  from  it,  like  half  a 
sunflower  ?  It  is  the  typical  sunset  to  me." 

"  I  always  think  of  it  as  behind  a  purplish- 
blue  mountain  ridge  with  a  fringe  of  trees  on 
the  top,"  said  Dolly.  "  But  you  have  n't 
spent  the  whole  day  thinking  about  sunsets  ?  " 

"  No,"  Evelyn  answered  slowly;  "  of  life 
and  things,  of  course.  But  as  soon  as  I  started 
to  speak  of  them,  they  seemed  so  immense  that 
I  slid  off  into  something  less  awful.  I  have 
been  thinking  of  how  our  attitude  keeps  chang- 
ing, as  we  go  on  in  life,  toward  things  that  have 
been  of  great  consequence  to  us.  We  get  a 
different  set  of  values  every  little  while  and 
find  ourselves  forced,  often  against  our  wills, 
to  let  the  old  ones  go.  Now  I  would  a  hun- 
dred times  rather  feel  as  I  used  to  feel  about 
lots  of  things, — the  Church  service,  for  instance. 
It  is  a  distinct  loss  for  me  to  have  to  let  my 


50         The  Things  that  Count 

reverence  for  it  go,  to  have  to  realise  that  it  is 
giving  symbols  a  false  importance,  that  it  does 
actual  harm  in  deifying  trifles  and  so  spoiling 
true  standards  of  value." 

"  I  love  the  Prayer  Book  as  a  piece  of  litera- 
ture," said  Dolly. 

"  So  do  I.  The  mere  sound  of  the  words 
of  it  soothes  me.  It  is  so  smooth,  so  harmoni- 
ous; and  it  is  such  a  relief  to  be  spared  the  bad 
taste  of  individuals  and  to  get  instead  a  se- 
ries of  the  most  exquisitely  worded  petitions, 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  every  human  being 
so  far  as  anyone  else  can  know  them.  Yes, 
I  love  the  Prayer  Book,  but  I  hate  (I  wish  I 
did  n't)  dippings  and  bowings  and  bendings 
and  turning  this  way  and  that,  and  special 
altar-cloths  for  special  days,  and  all  the  things 
of  that  sort.  Of  course  if  it  could  be  done  in 
a  casual,  by-the-way  fashion,  as  if  it  were  of  as 
little  consequence  as  it  really  is,  one  would  n't 
think  of  it  at  all  to  criticise  it ;  but  most  people 
can't  go  in  for  that  sort  of  thing  without  los- 
ing sight  of  the  fact  that  they  are  not  ends  in 
themselves.  But  this  is  only  one  instance  of  a 
hundred  that  have  been  troubling  me.  Do 
you  know,  I  actually  hung  back  a  little  and 
escaped  an  introduction  to  Mrs.  Lorrimer  when 
she  spoke  to  Mrs.  Perkins  after  church  to-day. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Lonimers  are  of 


A  Compact  51 

the  truly  great  socially,  but  I  have  never  cared 
for  her  looks,  and  I  felt  lazy  and  it  did  n't  seem 
to  matter.  It  was  too  much  trouble  to  impress 
her  with  the  fact  that  I  counted.  I  am  dread- 
fully afraid  that  the  fear  of  being  bored  is  get- 
ting more  important  to  me  than  any  other 
consideration.  I  wonder  what  has  come  over 
me." 

"  It   is  that    new   little   soul,"   said   Dolly. 
:<  How  big  do  you  suppose  it  is  now  ? " 

It  is  growing  fast,  I  am  afraid.  It  is  get- 
ting uncomfortable.  I  feel  dreadfully  cramped 
for  room  sometimes." 

'  What  do  you  suppose  set  you  off  on  this 
tack  ?  "  Dolly  asked,  for  she  had  a  lively  curi- 
osity in  her  friends'  mental  workings,  though 
not  much  given  to  introspection  herself. 

I  don't  know,  but  I  have  always  fancied 
that  I  have  never  been  quite  the  same  since  a 
small  affair  that  I  had  several  years  ago.  It  's 
not  very  interesting.  It  was  when  I  was  espe- 
cially enamoured  of  the  flesh-pots.  Happiness 
and  possessions  were  synonymous  with  me.  I 
could  n't  understand  how  people  could  be  con- 
tent who  did  n't  have  at  least  the  use  of 
broughams  and  maids.  I  felt  that  they  were 
pretending  if  they  seemed  to  be,  or  else  that 
they  did  n't  know.  Well,  a  young  man  came 
upon  the  scene  just  then  and  I  fell  a  little  in 


52         The  Things  that  Count 

love  with  him,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life. 
Before  that  I  had  no  real  conception  of  what 
it  meant.  You  can  imagine  what  a  strong  hold 
the  lust  of  wealth  had  over  me  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  resisted  the  terrible  fascination  of  the 
feeling  (oh,  how  I  wanted  to  give  in  to  it  and 
just  let  myself  drift,  no  matter  where  it  took 
me !)  and  deliberately  strangled  the  thing  in  its 
infancy.'* 

"  How  did  you  do  it  ?  "  asked  Dolly,  with 
the  greatest  interest. 

"  By  the  only  possible  method,  absence  and 
a  complete  embargo  on  dreams.  I  literally 
never  let  myself  think  of  him." 

"  And  how  about  the  young  man  ?  How 
did  you  dispose  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  deliberately  snubbed  him  in  a  way  no 
man  could  forgive." 
'  Was  he  so  poor  ?  " 

'  He  was  poor,  but  that  would  n't  have 
been  so  insurmountable,  for  he  was  very  clever, 
if  he  had  not  had  a  mother  and  two  sis- 
ters—  one  an  invalid  and  the  other  a  widow 
with  a  child  —  to  support.  I  never  knew  a 
man  so  tied.  I  heard  a  little  while  afterwards 
that  the  invalid  sister  had  died,  and  that  the 
other  had  married  again,  very  well,  and  had 
taken  her  mother  to  live  with  her." 

"  And  did  n't  you  feel  sorry  then  ? " 


A  Compact  53 

"  I  did.  But  you  can  see  how  strong  this 
need  has  always  been  in  me.  I  think  that 
there  are  not  many  women  (you  can  say  '  thank 
heaven !  '  if  you  like)  who  would  have  been 
able  to  do  what  I  did.  I  have  sacrificed  so 
much  to  that  fixed  idea  of  mine  that  now  the 
thought  of  letting  it  go  dismays  me." 

"  And  have  you  never  seen  him  again  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  used  to  see  him  at  parties  at  first, 
but  we  never  did  anything  more  than  exchange 
bows,  and  then  I  lost  sight  of  him  altogether 
until  about  three  months  ago.  I  sat  next  to 
him  at  a  dinner.  I  could  see  that  I  was  no 
longer  of  any  consequence  to  him.  He  had 
even  forgotten  that  he  had  ever  had  reason  to 
be  angry  with  me." 

"  And  of  course  you  said  nothing  to  him 
about  the  past  ?" 

"  No;  but  I  should  have  if  circumstances 
had  been  different.  I  knew  that  he  had  been 
thinking  hard  things  of  me  all  that  time  and 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  not  to  mis- 
judge my  motives.  He  would  think  that  I 
was  trying  to  get  in  with  him  now  that  he  was 
better  off  and  that  my  other  matrimonial 
schemes  had  failed ;  and  it  would  be  natural 
for  him  to  think  that  my  little  story  was  made 
up  to  cover  a  mistake;  or,  even  if  he  believed 
it,  he  would  think  that  I  was  making  capital 


54         The  Things  that  Count 

out  of  it.  Circumstances  were  against  me.  If 
I  had  only  been  in  a  better  position,  if  I  had 
been  married,  for  instance!  " 

"  And  so  he  will  never  know  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not.  And  yet,  it  would  have 
been  such  fun  to  tell  him.  It  would  have  been 
such  an  interesting  situation." 

How  did  you  feel  towards  him  ?  " 

"  Glad  to  see  him  in  a  way,  but  perfectly 
cold.  The  glory  and  the  dream  had  gone  from 
him."  She  paused  and  then  went  on:  "  And 
then,  of  course,  there  was  the  feeling  that  my 
motives  might  not  be  as  disinterested  as  I 
should  wish  him  to  think  they  were.  He  is  a 
man  who  will  have  the  requisite  twenty-five 
thousand  a  year  some  day,  I  am  sure.  It  was 
a  lost  opportunity.  Can't  you  imagine  my 
telling  it  to  him  right  in  the  middle  of  din- 
ner," she  broke  off,  "  with  each  of  us  turning 
to  make  occasional  remarks  to  our  neighbours 
and  neither  of  us  looking  as  if  we  were  talking 
of  anything  more  vital  than  the  orchids  on  the 
table  ?" 

"  It  is  all  so  strange  to  me,"  Dolly  remarked 
thoughtfully.  "  I  have  never  been  in  love  in 
my  life.  To  be  sure,  I  have  not  had  much  of 
a  chance.  I  was  in  college  so  long,  and  I  have 
been  with  Mrs.  Perkins  almost  ever  since.  I 
have  met  men  occasionally  at  Uncle  Twiller's, 


A  Compact  55 

but  I  never  saw  enough  of  them  for  them  to 
find  out  that  I  am  nicer  than  I  look.  I  have 
never  been  in  love,  and  everybody  says  that  I 
am  hopelessly  unsentimental;  but  if  what  I 
read  is  true,  I  can't  imagine  deliberately  pre- 
ferring anything  else  to  it  as  you  did,  especially 
purple  and  fine  linen,  mere  possessions.  What 
sort  of  a  young  man  was  he  ?  Would  he  have 
done  to  marry  otherwise  ?  " 

Evelyn  laughed  as  she  answered : 

"  They  say  that  you  can  never  tell  that  till 
you  try ;  but,  all  the  same,  I  should  have  been 
willing  to  risk  it.  He  had  such  unfailing  good 
taste  and  was  so  kind-hearted,  and  yet  was 
strong  and  manly.  I  believe  that  he  is  consid- 
ered an  unusual  man.  Well,  he  is  out  of  my 
reach  now.  I  heard  a  little  while  ago  that  he  is 
engaged  to  a  very  fine  woman.  Perhaps  he  is 
married  by  this  time.  That  was  one  chance 
that  little  Evelyn  flung  away." 

"  I  wonder  if  he  cared  long."  The  story 
evidently  interested  Dolly. 

"  I  fancy  not.  You  see  I  killed  his  faith  in 
me,  and  Arthur  (that  was  his  name)  was  n't 'a 
man  to  love  for  long  a  woman  whom  he  did  n't 
respect.  But  come,  Dolly,  we  have  talked 
about  me  and  my  affairs  long  enough.  Some- 
way, we  always  seem  to  drift  into  that  subject 
when  we  are  alone  together.  I  suppose  that  I 


56         The  Things  that  Count 

am  a  terrible  egotist,  all  the  more  so  because 
I  have  to  suppress  it  and  keep  myself  in  the 
background  so  much  of  the  time.  Let  's  talk 
about  you  for  a  change." 

'  There  is  n't  anything  to  say.  There  's 
nothing  interesting  about  me." 

'  Why,  the  fact  that  you  've  never  been  in 
love  is  very  interesting.  I  should  n't  fancy 
that  you  would  care  easily,  but  when  you  do, 
you  '11  probably  take  it  hard.  Happy  Cyril," 
she  added  mischievously. 

'  Evelyn  Smith!"  Dolly  exclaimed  indig- 
nantly, sitting  up  straight.  "  How  can  you 
insinuate  such  a  thing!  And  the  worst  of  it 
is  that  I  believe  you  are  half  in  earnest  about 
it." 

'  Why  should  n't  I  be  ?  It  is  easy  to  see 
that  he  adores  you." 

"  Cyril  adore  anybody!  Besides,  he  is  a 
hundred  years  younger  than  1." 

"  Not  four  in  actual  count.  He  is  a  boy 
now,  but  just  wait  a  few  years  and  you  won't 
feel  the  difference  between  )'ou.  I  only  wish 
he  had  not  the  bad  taste  to  dislike  me  so  par- 
ticularly. I  would  n't  mind  half  a  dozen 
years,  more  or  less,  to  my  advantage." 

"  Evelyn,"  Dolly  began  impressively,  lower- 
ing her  voice,  "  would  you  take  Mrs.  Perkins 
for  a  mother-in-law  ?  " 


A  Compact  57 

"  Cyril's  wife  would  not  see  much  of  her. 
He  'd  attend  to  that." 

"  Would  you  really  marry  him  if  you 
could  ?  "  Dolly  asked  gravely. 

"  Seriously  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  No,  I  would  n't.     Do  you  believe  me  ? " 

"  I  do. "  Both  the  girls  were  silent  for  a  few 
minutes.  It  was  Evelyn  who  spoke  first. 

"  Shall  I  say  '  Happy  Richard,'  then  ?  "  she 
asked  lightly. 

"  I  shall  never  have  the  chance  to  make  him 
happy,  though  I  believe  I  could  if  he  only 
knew  it,"  Dolly  answered  soberly.  "  He  will 
never  discover  it  though,"  she  added  thought- 
fully. 

"  He  seems  to  like  you  tremendously." 

Oh,  yes,  he  likes  me."  She  stopped  and 
then  went  on  a  little  abruptly:  "  Evelyn,  I 
want  to  tell  you  something.  I  am  suffering 
from  a  horrible  temptation,  and  you  are  con- 
cerned in  it." 

'  That  sounds  interesting.  Is  Mr.  Palmer 
in  it  too  ?  " 

'  Yes.  See  here.  He  is  the  first  young 
man  that  I  have  known  in  my  life  that  I  felt  I 
could  make  a  real  friend  of.  I  shall  never  fall 
in  love  with  him,  partly  because  I  realise  the 
absolute  hopelessness  of  his  ever  coming  to 


58         The  Things  that  Count 

care  for  me.  I  am  not  a  woman  to  cherish  an 
unrequited  affection.  I  am  too  practical,  too 
matter-of-fact,  too  unsentimental.  If  he  cared 
for  me,  no  doubt  I  should  respond,  but  I  shall 
never  care  for  him  as  it  is." 

'  Where  do  I  come  in  ?  "  Evelyn  asked  as 
she  paused. 

"  Have  patience.  I  am  coming  to  you.  Now 
you  know  (you  told  me  yourself)  Mr.  Palmer 
has  heard  things  about  you  from  Cyril  that 
prejudice  him  against  you.  At  least,  I  sup- 
pose that  he  is  prejudiced.  He  has  not  spoken 
of  you  to  me.  Now  if  I  let  him  continue  to 
think  the  things  he  does,  I  shall  probably  en- 
joy all  summer  what  I  have  longed  for  all  my 
life,  the  friendship  of  a  man  who  is  truly  worth 
while.  If,  on  the  contrary,  he  finds  out  that 
you  are  only  misguided,  not  vicious,  he  will 
probably  have  no  more  time  or  attention  for 
me.  No,  don't  say  anything  until  I  give  you 
permission.  I  have  a  lot  to  say  yet.  Now  I 
don't  think  he  will  fall  in  love  with  you,  though 
I  really  don't  see  how  a  man  with  eyes  in  his 
head  can  help  doing  it.  He  is  a  person  who 
demands  a  tremendous  amount  of  the  woman 
he  loves,  I  can  see  that.  Besides,  he  seems  to 
have  known  a  great  many  women.  Cyril  told 
me  that  they  ran  after  him  in  droves,  which  is 
probably  a  slight  exaggeration.  Still,  he  is 


A  Compact  59 

very  good  to  look  at,  as  you  know,  and  a  thor- 
oughly nice  fellow,  besides  being  head  and 
shoulders  cleverer  than  any  man  I  have  ever 
known.  He  has  a  certain  little  indifference 
about  other  people's  opinion  of  him  that  is 
fetching.  Now  —  here  comes  the  important 
thing  —  if  I  were  sure  that  he  would  not  fall  in 
love  with  you,  if  I  were  even  surer  of  you. 
You  see  I  believe  in  you,  in  your  good  faith 
thoroughly;  but,  after  all,  I  have  only  your 
own  word  and  my  own  intuitions  to  go  on, 
while  your  whole  life  and  everything  I  have 
ever  heard  about  you  tell  a  different  story.  I 
don't  want  you  to  make  a  plaything  of  him; 
he  is  too  good  for  that.  I  hate  the  idea  of  his 
being  unhappy  about  another  woman  and  that 
woman  you.  I  am  afraid  it  would  affect  my 
friendship  for  you,  and  I  can't  bear  the  idea 
of  a  man's  corning  between  us  when  we  are  get- 
ting to  be  such  good  friends.  Friendship  is  so 
much  to  me.  Besides,  it  seems  so  vulgar.  I 
have  such  a  strong  instinct  that  it  is  for  the 
best  to  keep  you  two  apart,  as  I  can  so  easily 
do  by  simply  holding  my  tongue.  Then,  he 
matters  so  little  to  you,  just  a  little  more 
amusement  of  a  kind  you  have  had  so  much 
of,  and  he  is  the  first  real  man  friend  whom  I 
have  ever  had.  And  yet,  how  do  I  know  that 
it  is  not  simply  jealousy  that  is  influencing 


60        The  Things  that  Count 

me  ?  It  did  n't  seem  so  at  first,  but  it  looks 
more  and  more  like  it  as  I  put  it  into  words,  a 
sort  of  impersonal  jealousy  of  a  stronger  inter- 
est, not  a  personal  jealousy  of  a  woman.  I 
believe  that  it  is  all  casuistry ;  and  I  have  set- 
tled my  problem.  I  shall  talk  to  him  about 
you  the  first  chance  I  get." 

'  You  don't  ask  me  for  any  promises  ?  " 
"  No;  I  put  you  on  your  honour.  You 
must  n't  even  try  by  not  trying.  I  mean,  you 
must  n't  work  the  indifferent.  I  think  it 
might  be  effective,  as  I  notice  that  he  can't 
help  looking  at  you  when  he  thinks  no  one 
sees  him.  If  his  attention  were  not  first  at- 
tracted, however,  I  fancy  one  might  try  it  for- 
ever without  any  effect." 

'  That  would  be  all  very  well  if  I  were  going 
to  play  with  him,  which  I  am  not,"  Evelyn 
began  energetically.  "  See  here,  Dolly,  I 
don't  want  you  to  talk  to  him  about  me.  I 
have  a  strong  fancy  to  see  if  he  won't  come  to 
think  differently  of  me  of  his  own  accord.  It 
is  such  an  interesting  experiment.  I  don't 
mean  to  do  a  thing,  but  just  be  perfectly  pass- 
ive and  see  what  will  happen."  Dolly  looked 
at  her  keenly,  evidently  suspecting  a  self-sacri- 
ficing motive,  but  Evelyn's  words  and  tone 
sounded  genuine  and  her  face  was  innocent  of 
anything  more  than  her  words  expressed. 


A  Compact  61 

"  You  are  really  in  earnest, —  not  just  being 
unselfish  ?  Oh  dear,  I  wish  that  I  were  n't  so 
glad  that  you  don't  want  me  to !  It  makes  me 
ashamed  of  myself,  but  I  can  sympathise  with 
the  feeling  you  speak  of." 

"  It  's  more  than  I  can/'  Evelyn  said  to  her- 
self, but  she  still  looked  innocent.  "  Dolly 
shall  have  her  chance,"  she  thought  mag- 
nanimously. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  Mr.  Palmer  is  doing 
now  ?  "  Dolly  went  on  presently. 

"  I  can't  imagine." 

"  He  is  out  in  that  old  tool-house  where 
Cyril  has  had  his  batteries  and  things  put,  and 
Cyril  is  explaining  all  his  old  machines  to  him. 
The  door  was  open  and  as  I  came  by  I  heard 
them  talking  away  about  horse-powers  and 
candle-powers  at  a  great  rate.  It  is  just  part 
of  his  good  sense  that  he  interests  himself  in 
what  Cyril  cares  most  about.  They  were 
talking  electricity  in  the  boat  this  morning. 
Do  you  know,  the  boy  is  really  studying.  He 
actually  seems  to  like  his  work,  and  this  morn- 
ing he  asked  me  a  question  about  a  point  in 
Greek  grammar  that  he  had  evidently  been 
puzzling  about.  It  is  such  a  good  sign,  his 
thinking  of  his  work  when  he  is  away  from  his 
books.  I  think  that  he  is  beginning  to  be 
reconciled  to  the  idea  of  going  to  college. 


62         The  Things  that  Count 

Mr.  Palmer  has  succeeded  in  persuading  him 
that  the  studies  he  despises  are  an  important 
preparation  for  life,  and  that  every  bit  of  extra 
drill  a  man's  mind  gets  is  just  so  much  gain  in 
any  work  he  sets  out  to  do.  Cyril  can  special- 
ise in  science  very  soon  at  college,  and  there 
will  be  only  a  little  delay.  It  is  n't  as  if  he  were 
limited  in  time.  He  won't  have  to  work  for 
a  living,  but  can  give  his  whole  life  up  to  ex- 
perimenting later  on  if  he  likes.  Mr.  Palmer 
says  that  there  is  no  doubt  of  his  getting  in 
this  fall  if  he  wants  to.  You  know  it  is  only 
in  Latin  and  Greek  that  he  is  behindhand." 

I  liked  his  not  letting  Cyril  work  on  Sun- 
days," said  Evelyn. 

"  It  shows  good  sense.  And  he  makes  him 
take  some  vigorous  exercise  every  day.  The 
best  of  it  is  that  he  is  getting  really  interested 
in  Cyril,  and  I  think  he  can  do  wonders  for 
him.  But,  Evelyn,  I  meant  to  undeceive  you 
about  Cyril  and  me,  but  we  got  off  on  some- 
thing else.  Cyril  likes  me  as  if  I  were  his 
sister.  He  has  n't  an  atom  of  sentiment  for 
me  and  never  will  have, —  like  all  the  rest  of 
them.  He  is  much  more  likely  to  fall  in  love 
with  you.  All  the  novels  say  that  it  is  a  good 
thing  to  start  with  a  little  aversion." 

;<  Here  comes  the  conquering  hero  now," 
said  Evelyn.  "  He  has  shaken  Cyril  and  seems 


A  Compact  63 

to  be  looking  for  us. "  Dolly  sat  up  and  waved 
her  hat  at  him. 

"  Oh,  here  you  are !  "  he  exclaimed.  M  Mrs. 
Perkins  asked  me  to  find  you,  Miss  Van  Horn. 
She  wants  to  consult  you  about  a  letter  she  has 
just  received." 

'  You  ought  not  to  have  to  work  on  Sun- 
days," said  Evelyn. 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  it  is.  It  is  something 
that  I  am  very  much  interested  in.  Well,  I 
must  go." 

"  I  'm  coming  too,"  said  Evelyn.  "  But 
don't  you  people  wait  for  me.  It  will  take  me 
some  minutes  to  collect  «iy  belongings,  which 
are  strewn  all  along  the  shore." 

'  Let  me  help  you,"  said  Palmer,  making  a 
beginning  by  picking  up  her  handkerchief, 
while  Dolly  hurried  off  through  the  pines. 
"  Is  n't  this  a  perfect  place  for  a  lazy  Sunday 
afternoon  ?  "  he  said. 

' '  Yes, ' '  she  replied.  ' '  It 's  an  ideal  arrange- 
ment, having  the  pines  come  down  to  the 
beach.  And  they  look  so  natural,  too.  I  was 
surprised  to  hear  that  they  had  been  planted." 

"It  is  nice  having  the  warm  sand  and  the 
shade  at  the  same  time,"  said  Palmer.  "  I 
suppose  it  gets  so  thoroughly  heated  through 
in  the  morning  that  it  retains  the  heat." 

"  And  it  is  nice  to  lie  here  and  watch  the 


64         The  Things  that  Count 

surf  on  days  when  it  is  rough,"  she  continued. 

There  is  one  little  cleft  in  those  rocks  out 
there  where  it  rushes  up  with  a  sound  like  a 
cannon  and  bursts  out  at  the  top  in  a  fountain  of 
spray.  We  had  a  storm  the  first  week  we  came, 
and  it  was  grand  after  it.  My  hat  is  under 
that  far  tree.  Now  I  think  I  have  everything. 
I  brought  those  books  so  as  to  have  a  choice 
of  literature  and  did  n't  open  one  of  them." 

'  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry  ?  "  Palmer 
asked  as  she  started  up  the  path  which  zig- 
zagged through  the  pines  up  the  sand-dune. 

'  It  must  be  time  to  dress  for  dinner." 

He  looked  at  his  watch  but  said  nothing. 

"  How  did  you  like  Bay  Island  ?  Did  it 
come  up  to  your  expectations?"  she  asked 
presently. 

"  We  did  n't  get  there  at  all.  Did  n't  Miss 
Van  Horn  tell  you  ?  The  wind  was  dying 
down  so  that  we  did  n't  dare  go  more  than 
half-way.  We  did  n't  want  to  row  back.  As 
it  was,  we  were  nearly  becalmed." 

'  You  can  console  yourself  with  the  thought 
that  you  would  probably  have  been  disap- 
pointed in  it." 

"  It  is  quite  probable,"  he  answered. 

They  said  nothing  more  until  they  were  ap- 
proaching the  house.  Then  he  remarked 
quietly : 


A  Compact  65 

"  You  seem  to  have  very  little  use  for  my 
society,  Miss  Smith." 

'  You  see  I  happen  to  have  the  advantage 
of  knowing  your  opinion  of  me,  Mr.  Palmer. 
I  don't  care  to  be — approached  in  spite  of  your 
better  judgment." 

I  don't  see  how  you  can  know  my  opinion, 
whatever  it  may  be,  or  how  you  can  be  sure 
that  you  are  right."  He  spoke  with  the  ut- 
most composure. 

I  will  tell  you.  The  night  you  came  I 
overheard  Cyril  giving  you  his  opinion  of  my 
character,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  believe  him  to  be  mistaken.  In  fact,  I 
think  that  appearances  bear  him  out.  I  had 
gone  out  into  the  garden  to  get  something  and 
as  I  passed  under  the  library  windows,  I  heard 
his  words.  I  had  not  known  that  you  were 
there."  Palmer  was  silent  for  a  minute  before 
he  said  gravely,  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  gravel 
path: 

'  You  do  not  deny  any  of  his  charges.  You 
surely  do  not  admit  that  they  are  true  ?  " 

On  the  contrary,  I  think  that  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  truth  in  them,"  Evelyn  an- 
swered decidedly,  leaving  him  witho'ut  another 
word. 

When  she  reached  her  room,  she  sat  down 

on  the  edge  of  her  bed,  without  even  stopping 
s 


66         The  Things  that  Count 

to  take  off  her  hat,  and  began  to  haul  herself 
over  the  coals. 

'  Evelyn  Smith,  I  am  ashamed  of  you,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "  Can't  you  be  absolutely 
true  for  once  ?  It  was  a  mean  thing  to  do. 
You  knew  that  it  would  make  an  interesting 
situation  to  tell  him  that  and  you  did  it  de- 
liberately. You  have  n't  even  the  excuse  of 
forgetting.  Do  you  think  it  was  fair  ?  Do 
you  think  Dolly  would  ever  have  done  the 
same  to  you  ?  Of  course  not.  She  is  to  be 
trusted.  It  shall  not  happen  again,  anyway. 
It  was  a  low  trick.  To  try  and  steal  poor  little 
Dolly's  ewe-lamb,  the  only  one  she  has  ever 
had,  when  you  have  had  flocks  of  your  own ! 
And  you  have  n't  even  the  excuse  of  being 
really  interested  in  him.  You  are  only  a  little 
piqued.  Well,  it  's  the  last  time,"  she  con- 
tinued, finishing  her  scolding  and  proceeding 
to  make  new  resolutions.  "I  '11  make  myself  as 
negative  as  possible  henceforth.  I  won't  even 
let  myself  appear  an  interesting  mystery  and  I 
won't  try  the  indifferent  pose.  It  was  clever 
of  Dolly  to  suspect  me  of  that.  Dear  me! 
I  'm  ashamed  of  myself.  I  told  her  I  was  n't 
vain,  and  I  suppose  that  I  'm  not  in  one  way ; 
but  what  was  this  but  a  concession  to  vanity  ? 
I  want  everybody  worth  while  to  burn  a  little 
incense.  What  a  brute  I  am !  Poor  little 


A  Compact  67 

Dolly!  If  men  only  knew  what  was  good  for 
them!  She  would  be  a  hundred  times  more 
satisfactory  for  a  wife  than  I  should  be.  I  '11 
wager  that  a  man  who  had  been  married  to  her 
for  three  years  would  love  her  infinitely  better 
than  he  would  me  under  the  same  circum- 
stances. I  admit  I  'd  be  nicer  for  the  honey- 
moon. Dear  me,  how  nice  I  should  be  for 
that!  I  don't  believe  Dolly  has  any  little 
ways,  though  she  might  have  if  she  fell  in 
love.  That  makes  such  a  difference  with  any 
woman.  Well, anyway, her  little  ways  would  n't 
be  so  nice  as  mine.  I  'd  be  an  artist  in  honey- 
moons. Could  n't  I  make  it  interesting  for 
the  right  man !  He  would  not  get  tired  of  me 
very  easily,  for  it  would  only  be  in  unguarded 
moments  that  he  'd  feel  sure  of  me.  He 
should  n't  have  all  of  me  all  the  time,  but 
once  in  a  while  I  'd  just  flood  him  with  my 
whole  self.  He  should  have  all  of  me,  body 
and  soul,  and  he  would  n't  forget  those  mo- 
ments all  his  life  through.  I  don't  mean  that 
I  'd  be  deliberate  in  this.  I  would  n't  hold 
myself  back  from  policy  if  my  impulse  was  to 
be  generous  of  myself;  it  is  only  that  I  know 
my  impulses  would  act  this  way.  I  suppose  it 
is  dreadful,  but  I  'd  a  thousand  times  rather  be 
myself  with  all  my  faults  and  deficiencies  than 
Dolly,  fine  woman  that  she  is;  and  yet,  I 


68        The  Things  that  Count 

should  n't  wonder  if  she  were  of  more  conse- 
quence than  I  am  when  she  is  forty.  I  don't 
see  that  it  has  to  be  so,  though.  I  am  cleverer 
than  she  is,  if  I  have  n't  had  a  good  education. 
If  I  got  among  the  right  surroundings,  I  feel 
that,  even  now,  I  have  it  in  me  to  become  much 
more  of  a  woman  than  I  am.  If  I  only  had 
five  thousand  a  year  instead  of  five  hundred, 
what  a  saint  I  'd  be !  Everybody  would  be 
admiring  me  instead  of  blaming  me  then.  I 
wonder  what  Mr.  Palmer  would  think  of  me 
under  those  circumstances.  Evelyn,  my  dear, 
that  was  a  masterly  stroke  of  yours,  if  I  am 
ashamed  of  you  for  making  it.  Oh,  Dolly,  I 
will  be  fair!  I  promise  you.  You  shall  have 
him  if  my  keeping  out  of  it  will  help  at  all." 

A  sudden  consciousness  that  it  was  dinner- 
time and  that  she  had  n't  even  begun  to  dress 
yet  broke  in  upon  Evelyn's  meditations  at  this 
point. 


CHAPTER  V 

EVELYN   BREAKS   FAITH 

SHE  hurried  all  she  could,  but  still  she  was 
late  to  dinner.  Mr.  Palmer  was  even 
later,  however.  Evelyn  was  sorry  for  that, 
because  she  was  afraid  that  Dolly  would  think 
that  they  had  lingered  together  on  the  beach. 
Accordingly,  she  said  something  to  her  about 
neither  of  them  having  any  excuse  for  being 
late,  as  they  had  reached  the  house  not  five 
minutes  after  she  did.  Mrs.  Perkins  was 
usually  severe  on  tardiness,  but  she  was  in  a 
gracious  mood  that  night  and  the  offenders 
went  unpunished. 

"  George  Scott  is  dead,  Mrs.  Perkins.  They 
sent  you  a  marked  paper,"  Dolly  remarked 
presently. 

"  At  last !    Well,  I  suppose  it  is  a  blessing." 
14  I  wonder  what  his — that  woman  will  do," 
said  Dolly. 

1  Who  is  George  Scott  ?  "  Cyril  demanded. 
69 


70        The  Things  that  Count 

"  He  is  a  man  who  has  been  dying  of  con- 
sumption for  a  long  time.  Mrs.  Black  found 
him  nearly  destitute.  A  woman  was  living 
with  him,  taking  care  of  him.  She  had  been 
living  with  him  for  five  years,  but  he  could  n't 
marry  her,  for  he  had  a  wife  of  his  own  some- 
where who  would  n't  get  a  divorce." 

'  Why  not  ?  "  Cyril  asked,  showing  such  an 
unusual  interest  in  his  mother's  remarks  that 
she  was  flattered  and  answered  graciously : 

' '  She  had  principles  against  divorce. ' '  Cyril 
gave  utterance  to  an  inarticulate  expression  of 
disgust,  but  Mrs.  Perkins  continued:  "Of 
course  I  could  n't  encourage  them  in  im- 
morality by  helping  them  while  they  stayed 
together.  I  gave  them  assistance  on  the  con- 
dition that  she  left  him.  She  would  n't  con- 
sent at  first,  but  she  had  to  finally.  They 
were  both  all  alone  in  the  world  and  had  no- 
body to  go  to  for  help." 

"  And  who  took  care  of  him  ?  " 

"  We  sent  him  to  a  hospital  and  found  work 
for  her." 

"  Did  they  like  being  separated  ?  " 

"  No,  I  believe  they  made  a  great  fuss  about 
it,  but  I  could  n't  encourage  such  things,  of 
course.  I  gave  orders  at  the  hospital  that  she 
should  not  be  admitted  to  him." 

"  That  is  the  most  cold-blooded  thing  I  ever 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  71 

heard  of  in  my  life!"  It  was  Evelyn  who 
spoke.  They  all  turned  to  her  with  a  sense  of 
great  surprise.  It  was  not  often  that  she  spoke 
on  the  opposite  side.  Evelyn  was  surprised 
herself  at  her  courage,  and  would  have  unsaid 
her  words  if  she  could.  Since  that  was  not 
possible,  she  stuck  to  them  bravely.  "  I  can't 
understand  taking  from  a  dying  man  his  one 
comfort.  What  harm  did  it  do  anyone  ?  The 
woman's  reputation  was  already  gone.  It 
could  n't  save  that.  I  can't  understand  a  re- 
ligion that  could  encourage  one  to  do  so  cruel 
a  thing. "  Mrs.  Perkins  flushed.  She  was  evi- 
dently going  to  make  some  crushing  answer, 
but  Cyril  broke  in  and  silenced  her. 

"  Good  for  you,  Miss  Smith!  "  he  exclaimed, 
giving  Evelyn  the  first  sign  of  approval  that 
she  had  ever  had  from  him.  "  That  's  just 
what  I  say.  And  you  knew  it  and  let  it  go 
on  ?  "  he  added,  turning  to  Dolly. 

I  thought  it  was  a  pity,  but  I  did  n't  see 
what  else  to  do,"  Dolly  explained.  "  I  don't 
see  how  we  could  have  let  them  stay  together. " 
Mrs.  Perkins's  face  relaxed  when  she  found 
that  Dolly  was  on  her  side  and  included  in  the 
condemnation. 

"  I  must  say  that  I  'm  disappointed  in  you. 
I  'd  have  expected  it  of  my  mother,  but  not 
of  you.  I  'd  have  expected  you  to  be  more 


72        The  Things  that  Count 

liberal-minded.     How  long   ago  was  that?" 
he  demanded. 

"  About  a  month.  It  was  just  before  we 
came  here,"  Dolly  answered. 

Cyril  shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainfully,, 
and  Palmer  came  to  .the  rescue  with  a  question 
to  Mrs.  Perkins  about  her  hospital  work.  He 
devoted  himself  to  her  for  the  rest  of  the  meal, 
and  after  dinner  strolled  out  on  the  lawn  with 
her.  Dinner  was  earlier  on  Sundays  and  it  was 
still  twilight.  Dolly  disappeared  and  Evelyn 
went  to  the  drawing-room  and,  sitting  down  at 
the  piano,  began  to  play  for  her  own  amuse- 
ment. She  had  no  especial  technique,  but  her 
music  always  gave  pleasure.  She  could  play 
almost  anything  that  was  asked  for,  if  not  by 
note,  by  ear.  Her  touch  was  unusually  sympa- 
thetic and  pleasing. 

Presently  she  was  conscious  that  Cyril  was 
standing  by  the  piano  in  the  half-light. 

"I  say,  that  was  bully!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  What  was  it  ?  " 

"  Something  of  Schumann's.  I  'm  not  quite 
sure  what.  I  don't  believe  I  play  it  correctly. 
Indeed,  I  think  I  have  jumbled  two  things  up 
together.  My  renderings  are  not  above  sus- 
picion," Evelyn  answered,  remembering  for 
the  first  time  that  she  had  heard  that  Cyril  was 
very  fond  of  music. 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  73 

"  Play  something  more,  won't  you  ?  "  he 
asked,  with  more  graciousness  of  manner  than 
he  had  ever  used  towards  her. 

"  I  see  the  way  to  tame  this  bear,  but  I 
won't  do  it.  I  '11  be  perfectly  true,  Dolly," 
Evelyn  said  to  herself.  And  so  she  made  no 
effort  to  establish  their  relations  on  a  pleasanter 
basis,  and,  after  playing  a  few  minutes  longer, 
got  up  and  left  the  room,  with  a  little  apology 
to  Cyril,  feeling  very  virtuous.  She  had  made 
up  her  mind  to  let  Dolly  have  her  chance,  and 
she  would  keep  her  word  to  herself  at  any  sac- 
rifice. It  would  be  only  too  easy  to  lead  up  to 
a  cessation  of  hostilities  by  propitiating  Cyril. 

Palmer  moved  into  his  new  quarters,  which 
he  had  engaged,  at  Dolly's  suggestion,  at  the 
Andrews's  farm,  and  after  that  was  with  them 
only  at  luncheon.  At  least,  that  was  the  ar- 
rangement, but  Mrs.  Perkins  was  constantly 
detaining  him  to  dinner  on  one  pretext  or  an- 
other, though  he  evaded  her  invitations  as  often 
as  he  could.  His  friendship  with  Dolly  pro- 
gressed. They  often  went  off  together  in  the 
afternoon,  when  Cyril  was  studying.  Several 
times  Evelyn  had  difficulty  in  repersuading 
Dolly  not  to  sing  her  praises  to  Palmer.  Her 
honest  little  soul  could  not  rid  itself  of  the  idea 
that  she  was  doing  Evelyn  an  injustice,  in  spite 
of  the  latter's  assurances  that  she  liked  it  better 


74        The  Things  that  Count 

so,  that  it  was  more  interesting  as  it  was,  and 
she  frequently  asked  Evelyn  to  release  her  from 
her  promise  to  be  silent.  Evelyn  felt  very 
virtuous.  ;<  Dolly  shall  have  her  chance,"  she 
said  to  herself  on  all  occasions,  and,  for  the 
most  part,  she  kept  her  word.  Perhaps  she 
did  not  deserve  any  credit,  for  the  belief  began 
to  dawn  upon  her  that  her  policy,  honestly  as- 
sumed as  it  was,  was  having  a  different  effect 
from  the  one  intended.  She  was  conscious 
that  Palmer's  curiosity,  if  nothing  more,  was 
increasingly  aroused  by  her  attitude  towards 
him.  It  was  hard  for  her  not  to  accentuate 
the  indifference  and  heighten  the  mystery,  as 
she  knew  so  well  how  to  do,  but  she  bravely 
resisted  the  temptation. 

She  had  the  further  satisfaction  of  feeling 
that,  in  spite  of  her  inaction,  Cyril  was  coming 
to  have  a  different  opinion  of  her  from  the  one 
which  he  had  when  he  arrived.  She  was  much 
more  conscious  of  the  change  in  him  in  this  re- 
spect than  in  Palmer.  With  the  latter,  she 
always  felt  that  he  was  attracted  to  her  in  spite 
of  himself. 

One  hot  afternoon  at  about  four  o'clock 
Dolly  and  Cyril  started  out  for  a  sail.  There 
was  only  a  faint  little  breeze,  but  Cyril  was 
convinced  that  it  was  strengthening,  and  also 
that  it  would  be  much  more  forcible  out  from 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  75 

the  shore.  Mrs.  Perkins  was  invited  out  to  din- 
ner, so  they  ordered  a  late  supper  and  planned 
going  all  the  way  to  Bay  Island.  Evelyn  took 
her  sewing  out  into  the  garden  in  search  of 
Cyril's  breeze,  trying  to  imagine  that  it  was 
cooler  there  than  in  the  house. 

After  a  little,  she  noticed  with  pleasure  that 
the  sky  was  clouding  over,  and  at  about  seven 
she  was  startled  by  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  which 
came  sweeping  across  the  lawn,  scattering  the 
ribbon  and  lace  out  of  which  she  was  making 
a  stock  for  Dolly.  It  was  closely  followed  by 
another,  and,  looking  up,  she  saw  that  the  sky 
was  now  closely  covered  with  dark  purplish- 
blue,  murderous-looking  clouds.  She  picked 
up  her  work  and  started  for  the  house,  but  a 
loud  peal  of  thunder  boomed  forth  before  she 
could  reach  it.  An  intensity  of  apprehension 
such  as  she  never  remembered  feeling  came 
over  her,  although  she  was  always  more  fright- 
ened than  she  cared  to  acknowledge  at  a 
thunder-storm,  especially  if  she  were  alone. 
Her  first  thought  after  she  was  in  the  house, 
where  the  servants  were  rushing  around,  shut- 
ting the  windows,  was  that  Mrs.  Perkins  would 
be  safe  at  her  destination,  and  then,  for  the 
first  time,  she  remembered  Dolly  and  Cyril  out 
on  the  ocean  in  a  small  boat.  She  felt  sud- 
denly sick  with  fear  for  them. 


76        The  Things  that  Count 

Fiery  zigzags  of  lightning  shot  across  the  sky, 
followed  almost  immediately  by  deafening  peals 
of  thunder.  Rain  began  to  dash  against  the  win- 
dow-panes as  if  determined  to  get  in,  whether 
or  no.  Blue-white  sheets  of  it  filled  the  air. 
Was  there  nothing  she  could  do?  Her  thoughts 
flew  to  Palmer.  He  had  half  promised  to  go 
with  the  sailing-party,  but  had  not  turned  up 
at  the  appointed  time,  so  they  had  gone  with- 
out him.  The  servants  knew  nothing  of  the 
excursion  and  she  did  not  mention  it.  Going 
upstairs,  she  hastily  put  on  a  short  bicycle 
skirt,  overshoes,  a  mackintosh,  and  a  cap,  and 
gathering  up  her  courage,  she  started  out  into 
the  storm.  Her  umbrella  was  useless  on  ac- 
count of  the  wind,  so  she  left  it  on  the  porch. 
The  gusts  tied  her  skirts  around  her  legs ;  the 
rain  beat  against  her  face  and  nearly  blinded 
her.  No  clothes  were  any  protection.  It 
forced  its  way  through  the  fastenings  of  her 
mackintosh,  down  her  neck,  up  her  sleeves, 
and  she  was  soon  wet  to  the  skin.  It  was  only 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  farmhouse  where 
Palmer  lived,  but  it  took  her  half  an  hour  to 
reach  it. 

As  she  came  to  the  little  green  gate, 
she  thought  of  the  peaceful  picture  the  old 
house  had  made  that  morning,  when  she  had 
driven  by.  It  had  been  apparently  asleep  in 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  77 

the  sunshine,  resting  against  a  wooded  hill, 
with  its  contemporary  elms  standing  sentinel 
around  it,  and  the  fragrant  garden  of  little  box- 
bordered  beds  between  it  and  the  road.  The 
gravel  path  from  the  gate  to  the  columned 
porch  had  stretched  between  two  regal  rows  of 
peonies,  but  now  they  were  dethroned  and 
their  royal  heads  of  pink  and  crimson  grovelled 
in  the  mud.  The  rain  had  beaten  out  the 
fragrance  of  the  mignonette  that  grew  between, 
and  it  filled  the  air,  mingled  with  the  pungent 
odour  of  wet  earth.  It  was  nearly  dark,  but 
flashes  of  lightning  lit  up  the  scene  and  showed 
her  the  mischief  that  had  been  done  in  half  an 
hour. 

There  was  a  light  in  Palmer's  room  in  the 
north  wing,  and  she  made  her  way  there  through 
the  rushing  stream  into  which  the  path  had  been 
converted,  the  water  coming  over  the  tops  of 
her  overshoes  at  every  step.  She  had  to  grope 
her  way  up  the  steps  leading  to  the  little  stoop 
in  the  shadow  of  the  elms.  Before  she  could 
knock  at  the  glass  door,  Palmer  himself  opened 
it.  He  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  his  hair 
was  rumpled  as  if  he  had  been  running  his 
fingers  through  it.  The  table  on  which  the 
student-lamp  was  standing  was  covered  with 
papers.  He  had  evidently  been  writing. 

'  Well,  what  are  you  doing  out  in  this  jolly 


78        The  Things  that  Count 

old  storm  ?  "  he  exclaimed  in  surprise  when  he 
saw  who  his  visitor  was;  and  then,  as  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  white  face,  he  added  hastily : 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Dolly  and  Cyril,"  Evelyn  faltered,  and 
then  stopped.  An  expression  of  consternation 
crossed  his  face. 

"  By  Jove!  "  he  exclaimed;  "I  had  forgotten 
all  about  them.  Did  they  go  ?  Have  n't  they 
come  home  yet  ?"  She  shook  her  head.  She 
could  not  speak.  He  took  her  by  the  arm  to 
lead  her  to  the  old  sofa  which  stood  in  the 
corner. 

"  I  'm  too  wet,"  she  protested  faintly. 

:<  It  won't  hurt  horsehair.  Sit  down."  He 
brought  a  bottle  from  the  closet,  poured  a  little 
of  its  contents  into  a  glass,  and  gave  it  to  her 
to  drink. 

"  It  's  brandy,"  he  said.  "  It  will  brace 
you  up  and  keep  you  from  taking  cold."  She 
swallowed  it  obediently.  Two  tears  ran  down 
her  cheek  and  mingled  with  the  rain-drops. 
After  an  ineffectual  hunt  for  her  handkerchief, 
she  brushed  them  off  with  the  back  of  her  hand. 
Palmer  handed  her  his.  The  water  was  drip- 
ping off  the  edge  of  her  cap.  He  took  it  off 
and  made  her  lean  against  the  raised  end  of 
the  sofa.  Then  he  got  a  towel  from  the  wash- 
stand  and  wiped  the  rain  off  her  face  and  hair. 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  79 

She  shut  her  eyes  and  let  him  do  what  he 
wanted.  He  went  to  the  closet  again  and 
brought  out  his  shoes,  which  he  proceeded  to 
put  on,  kicking  off  the  slippers  which  he  had 
on.  Next  he  slipped  into  his  coat  and  mack- 
intosh and  coming  over  to  Evelyn,  who  had 
been  lying  watching  him,  he  sat  down  beside 
her.  She  had  stretched  out  her  hand  towards 
him.  He  took  it  in  his  two  warm  ones  and 
held  it  fast. 

"  It  is  so  cold.  Here,  give  me  the  other  and 
let  me  warm  them  both.  I  can  feel  the  nerves 
in  the  palms,"  he  added. 

You  are  quieting  them,"  she  answered. 
Their  eyes  met,  but  neither  smiled.  Presently 
he  said,  in  his  usual  cheerful  fashion, 

'  There,  they  are  warm  now.  I  am  going 
down  to  the  pier  to  see  if  I  can  find  out  any- 
thing. Do  you  feel  equal  to  going  ?  I  don't 
like  to  leave  you  here  alone,  and  Mrs.  Andrews 
would  talk  you  to  death  if  I  called  her  in." 

"  Oh,  don't  leave  me!  "  she  exclaimed,  sit- 
ting straight  up.  "  I  am  perfectly  equal  to 
it."  He  opened  the  door  and,  shaking  the 
water  off  her  cap,  gave  it  back  to  her.  Then 
he  pulled  a  golf  cap  on  his  own  head  and  put 
out  the  lamp,  saying  that  he  never  liked  to. 
leave  one  lighted  alone  in  a  room.  His  natural 
voice  and  concern  about  every-day  things  were 


8o         The  Things  that  Count 

very  reassuring  to  Evelyn.  He  put  his  arm 
through  hers  to  help  her  down  the  unfamiliar 
steps,  for  she  was  blinded  by  coming  out  of 
the  light  into  the  darkness. 

The  wind  had  died  down  considerably,  but 
the  rain  was  still  coming  down  in  torrents. 
The  thunder  and  lightning  had  ceased  for  the 
time,  except  for  an  occasional  ineffectual  little 
flash,  like  a  firework  that  would  n't  go  off. 
Palmer  stopped  at  the  house  to  see  if  they  had, 
by  any  chance,  returned,  taking  care  not  to 
alarm  the  servants.  Both  he  and  Evelyn 
dreaded  their  lack  of  self-control,  the  outward 
expression  of  the  terror  and  dismay  which  they 
were  both  feeling  inwardly.  They  took  the 
path  through  the  pines  to  the  beach.  The 
roaring  of  the  breakers  was  so  loud  that  they 
could  hardly  hear  each  other  speak.  Evelyn 
stumbled  over  a  projecting  root.  He  put  his  arm 
around  her  and  left  it  there.  They  hardly  spoke. 

Just  as  they  reached  the  beach,  a  terrifying 
flash  of  lightning  lit  up  sea  and  shore  for  yards 
around.  Evelyn  gave  a  little  gasp  and  buried 
her  face  on  his  shoulder.  He  put  his  arms 
around  her  and  held  her  close. 

No  boat  could  live  in  that  sea,"  she  whis- 
pered sadly.  She  was  so  near  that  her  wet 
hair  brushed  his  cheek  and  he  could  smell  the 
odour  of  it. 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  81 

"  I  do  not  give  up  hope,"  he  replied  softly. 
All  the  company  tones  were  gone  out  of  their 
voices.  "  They  may  have  seen  the  storm  com- 
ing and  put  in.  They  could  n't  have  gone  far 
with  so  little  wind." 

"  Then  why  are  n't  they  here  ?  "  she  asked, 
and  he  had  no  answer.  She  could  feel  his 
heart  beating  fast  and  her  own  quickened  in 
response.  It  was  a  terrible,  delicious  moment. 
Presently  he  loosened  his  arms  and  pushed  her 
from  him  almost  roughly. 

"  I  can't  think  or  care  what  has  become  of 
them  so  long  as  you  are  so  near,"  he  said  sav- 
agely. The  heavens  opened  once  more  and  let 
out  a  world  of  glory.  Evelyn  started  towards 
him,  but  he  would  not  let  her  come  near. 

'  You  do  it  at  your  own  risk,"  he  said  se- 
verely. '  I  can't  stand  any  more  of  it.  I 
shall  take  advantage  if  you  come  so  near  me 
again." 

"  But  I  am  always  so  frightened  in  a  thunder- 
storm," she  faltered.  He  had  always  shown 
himself  so  calm,  so  completely  master  of  him- 
self, that  his  vehemence  frightened  her. 

"  What  's  that  ?  "  he  exclaimed  suddenly, 
before  he  could  answer  her.  '  I  heard  Miss 
Van  Horn's  laugh." 

"  I  did  n't  hear  anything,"  she  said.  He 
held  up  his  hand. 

6 


82         The  Things  that  Count 

"Listen!"  he  commanded.  "There!  I 
heard  it  again.  It  was  not  fancy." 

"  So  did  I  !  "  exclaimed  Evelyn  joyously. 
Another  flash  of  lightning  lit  up  the  beach  and 
showed  two  dark  figures  coming  towards  them. 
Palmer  gave  a  peculiar  whistle,  which  he  often 
used  to  call  Cyril,  and  it  was  answered  out  of 
the  darkness  that  had  settled  down  about  them 
again. 

"  Dolly!  "  called  Evelyn  excitedly,  starting 
to  run  down  the  beach. 

"  We  're  all  right,"  Dolly  called  back  in  her 
every-day  voice. 

'  What  do  you  mean  by  frightening  us  to 
death  ?"  Palmer  called  out  irritably  as  they 
approached  each  other.  They  had  been  quite 
near,  but  the  roaring  of  the  surf  had  made  their 
voices  sound  far  away. 

'  We  could  n't  help  it.  It  was  not  our 
fault,"  Dolly  explained,  apologetically.  '  We 
saw  the  storm  and  landed  at  the  lighthouse  on 
the  point  just  in  time  to  escape  it,  and  then, 
of  course,  we  had  to  walk  home,  and  it 's  five 
miles  if  it  's  a  step.  Mrs.  Perkins  went  to  her 
dinner,  did  n't  she  ?  " 

'  Yes,  and  she  did  n't  know  anything  about 
your  going.  But  come  on.  You  must  be 
wetter  than  we  are,  if  that  is  possible." 

Cyril  made  Palmer  come  in  and  get  on  some 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  83 

dry  clothes  of  his  and  stay  to  supper,  to  which 
he  had  already  been  invited.  There  was  a  de- 
licious sense  of  freedom  in  a  meal  without  Mrs. 
Perkins.  Cyril  dismissed  the  servants  and  they 
waited  on  themselves.  He  and  Dolly  ate 
heartily,  but  both  Evelyn  and  Palmer  had  lost 
their  appetites.  Evelyn  had  never  looked 
more  beautiful.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed  and 
her  eyes  bright  with  excitement  and  her  en- 
counter with  the  storm.  She  was  gay,  reck- 
lessly gay,  and  brilliant  as  she  had  seldom  been 
before.  The  sense  of  her  power  over  the  re- 
luctant man  opposite  her  exhilarated  her. 
Palmer  was  quiet  and  a  little  irritable  at  first, 
but  he  could  not  long  resist  the  infectious 
gaiety  of  Evelyn's  mood.  Even  Cyril  was 
talkative  and  jolly.  He  and  Evelyn  tacitly 
agreed  to  ignore  their  difficulties  for  that 
night.  Dolly  was  her  usual  serene,  literal, 
sweet-natured  self. 

After  supper,  when  they  went  into  the 
drawing-room,  Cyril  and  Dolly  sat  down  on 
the  hearth-rug  to  pop  some  corn  at  the  fire  of 
logs,  which  the  sudden  chill  of  the  evening 
made  desirable. 

'  We  always  used  to  pop  corn  when  we  were 
children  and  father  and  mother  went  out,  and 
it  always  seems  festive  and  free  to  me,"  ex- 
plained Dolly,  who  had  resurrected  the  corn 


84         The  Things  that  Count 

and  the  popper  from  a  closet.  "  But  we 
ought  not  to  have  any  light  but  the  fire. 
Put  the  lamps  out,  won't  you,  Cyril?"  she 
added. 

Palmer  threw  himself  into  a  big  chair,  a 
little  in  the  shadow,  and  relapsed  into  silence. 
Evelyn  seated  herself  at  the  piano,  and  began 
to  play  softly. 

"  Sing  something,  won't  you,  Miss  Smith  ?  " 
asked  Cyril. 

"  Not  coon  songs,"  Palmer  put  in  quickly. 

"  Don't  you  like  them  ?  "  asked  Evelyn. 
'  Well  enough,  but  not  to-night.     Do  you 
never  sing  anything  else  but  comic  songs  ?     I 
have  never  heard  you." 

"  I  sing  other  things  for  myself  occasionally, 
but  not  for  people  in  general.  They  seem 
to  resent  my  singing  anything  that  is  n't  amus- 
ing. You  see  I  have  a  reputation  to  live  up 
to." 

'  Well,  pretend  that  we  are  your  other 
selves,"  said  Palmer. 

"  What  shall  it  be  then  ?" 
'  That  little  French  song  I  heard  you  sing- 
ing this  morning,"  suggested  Cyril. 

Evelyn  sang  for  nearly  an  hour  as  no  one 
there  had  ever  heard  her  sing  before.  There 
was  passion,  fervour,  fire,  in  her  voice.  She  was 
singing  for  Palmer^  Cyril  stretched  himself 


Evelyn  Breaks  Faith  85 

out  on  the  hearth-rug  and  Dolly  leaned  back 
against  a  pile  of  cushions  that  he  had  placed 
for  her,  and  both  forgot  their  corn,  Cyril  be- 
cause he  was  entranced  by  Evelyn's  singing, 
and  Dolly  because  she  had  fallen  asleep.  Cyril 
telegraphed  the  fact  to  Evelyn  when  she 
stopped  and  turned  on  the  piano-stool  towards 
the  fire.  Dolly's  face  was  in  the  shadow  and 
the  light  of  the  fire  shone  full  on  her  beautiful 
hair. 

"  Poor  girl,"  said  Evelyn  softly,  "  she  is 
tired  out."  Palmer  rose  to  go. 

' '  Don't  disturb  her, ' '  he  said.  ' '  Cyril,  what 
did  you  do  with  my  mackintosh  ?  I  '11  return 
these  duds  of  yours  to-morrow." 

;<  I  '11  send  for  them  and  send  yours  home. 
I  '11  get  the  mackintosh  now."  He  left  the 
room,  and  Palmer  stepped  over  to  Evelyn  and 
stood  before  her  as  she  sat  on  the  piano- 
stool. 

'  Were  you  singing  to  me  ?  "  he  asked. 

I  was."  Their  eyes  met  and  they  gazed 
intently  at  each  other  for  a  full  minute  with 
mutual  defiance.  Then  as  Cyril  was  heard 
approaching,  his  eyes  softened.  He  seized  her 
hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  Good-night,  you  beautiful  vampire,"  he 
said  under  his  breath,  as  he  left  the  room  and 
joined  Cyril  in  the  hall. 


86         The  Things  that  Count 

Dolly  awakened  as  Cyril  came  back,  very 
much  surprised  at  having  been  asleep.  She 
did  not  attempt  to  hide  her  disappointment 
when  she  found  that  Palmer  had  gone  in  the 
interim. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   VAN   HORNS   ARRIVE 

THE  events  of  the  preceding  evening  natur- 
ally made  Evelyn  feel  guilty  in  regard  to 
Dolly,  for  her  conscience  did  not  exonerate 
her  for  the  part  she  had  played.  Undoubtedly 
her  fright  was  genuine;  but,  supposing  it  had 
been  Cyril  with  her  instead  of  Palmer,  would 
she  have  found  it  necessary  to  seek  refuge 
from  her  fears  in  his  arms  ?  She  could 
not  honestly  assert  that  this  would  have 
been  the  case.  Nobody  could  deny  that  she 
had  a  right  to  sing  love  songs  if  she  wanted 
to ;  but  had  it  been  fair,  considering  her  know- 
ledge of  the  state  of  Palmer's  emotions  that 
evening  ?  She  felt  ashamed  and,  at  the  same 
time,  exultant.  She  rebuked  herself  for  what 
she  had  done,  and  yet  recognised  the  fact  that 
she  would  do  the  same  thing  over  again  if  the 
opportunity  came.  It  might  be  wrong;  it  was 
undoubtedly  wrong,  but  it  was  very  sweet. 
87 


88         The  Things  that  Count 

She  met  Palmer  in  the  garden  the  next  day, 
and  stopped  him  when  he  was  about  to  pass  her 
with  some  conventional  remark.  Evidently 
the  glamour  had  gone  from  his  sight  overnight, 
and  Evelyn  was  not  a  woman  to  stand  that. 
She  chose  to  ignore  his  parting  remark  to  her 
of  the  evening  before.  It  was  uttered  so  low 
that  it  was  not  necessary  for  her  to  have  heard 
it. 

I  am  afraid  you  will  think  that  I  am  a  per- 
fect coward,"  she  began,  with  a  little  air  of  shy- 
ness which  she  did  not  in  the  least  feel.  It 
was  effective,  and  some  of  the  sternness  left  his 
face.  "  I  am  not,  really  and  truly.  Thunder- 
storms are  the  only  things  that  I  am  much 
afraid  of,  and  I  can't  seem  to  help  that.  You 
see,  I  don't  believe  that  I  am  quite  responsible 
for  it,  for  I  was  born  in  a  thunder-storm,  per- 
haps because  of  one."  Palmer's  face  relaxed. 

"  I  don't  see  how  any  one  could  blame  you 
for  it.  Of  course  you  can't  help  it." 

"  I  am  not  a  coward  about  other  things,"  she 
repeated. 

"  I  know  that.  I  have  seen  that  you  were 
not,"  he  replied,  looking  as  if  he  would  like  to 
detain  her  as  she  moved  away  across  the  lawn. 

Evelyn  hardly  attempted  to  scold  herself  for 
this,  she  was  getting  so  discouraged  with  dis- 
ciplining that  unruly  member.  It  seemed  to  do 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive         89 

very  little  good.  Her  words  had  been  nicely 
calculated.  She  would  not  have  said  what  she 
had  done  to  a  more  conventional  man.  She 
knew  that  her  saying  it  would  seem  perfectly 
natural  to  him>  and  would  yet  give  a  mutual 
sense  of  intimacy. 

Dolly  went  for  a  bicycle  ride  with  him  that 
afternoon.  The  rain  had  stopped,  and  the  wind 
had  risen  in  the  night, to  die  again  that  morning, 
leaving  the  roads  in  fine  condition  for  wheeling. 
The  storm  had  cooled  the  weather,  which  had 
been  uncomfortably  hot  before.  Dolly  stopped 
in  at  Evelyn's  room  on  her  return. 

;'  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  my  uncle  and 
aunt  have  come,"  she  explained.  "  We  met 
Uncle  Twiller  on  horseback.  He  was  on  his 
way  over  to  see  me,  to  invite  me  to  come  to 
dinner  to-morrow  night,  and  he  asked  Mr. 
Palmer  to  come  with  me  and  bring  me  home." 

'  That  will  be  nice,"  Evelyn  replied,  stifling 
a  pang  of  envy.  She  had  always  admired  Mrs. 
Van  Horn  from  a  distance,  and  had  wanted 
to  know  her. 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  am  afraid  of,"  Dolly 
continued.  '  Uncle  Twiller  is  a  regular  old 
matchmaker,  and  I  am  sure  he  will  take  some 
such  idea  in  his  head  about  Mr.  Palmer  and 
me;  and  I  can't  undeceive  him,  because  he 
would  think  that  I  was  just  being  coy  and 


90         The  Things  that  Count 

maidenly  if  I  protested.  He  does  n't  under- 
stand girls  as  they  are  made  nowadays.  I  am 
sure  I  shall  have  to  stand  innumerable  small 
jokes." 

"  Not  before  the  young  man  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear,  no!  But  on  every  other  occa- 
sion. You  see,  he  is  so  fond  of  me  that  he  is 
blind  to  all  my  imperfections,  and  he  thinks 
every  man  must  see  me  with  his  eyes.  He  is 
an  old  dear,  and  the  most  perfect  gentleman  I 
have  ever  known.  I  want  you  to  know  him, 
Evelyn." 

"  I  shall  want  to,"  she  answered.  "  And 
your  aunt,  Mrs.  Van  Horn, — what  is  she 
like?" 

"Oh,  Aunt  Charlotte  is  dear,  too,  in  her  way, 
but  not  so  dear  as  Uncle  Twiller.  She  has  a 
trifle  too  much  of  the  great  lady  about  her,  and 
I  can't  forgive  her  always  for  her  exclusive- 
ness,  for  her  terrible  politeness  to  unimportant 
people  whom  she  does  n't  happen  to  fancy. 
She  is  devoted  to  Uncle  Twiller  and  the  child- 
ren, and  fond  of  me  and  Lucia,  and  of  some 
nieces  of  her  own,  but  she  does  n't  love  her 
fellow-creatures  as  he  does.  You  know,  she  is 
twenty-five  years  younger  than  he  is.  His  first 
wife,  after  whom  I  was  named,  died  the  year 
after  he  married  her,  when  their  first  child  was 
born.  He  was  terribly  in  love  with  her,  and  it 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive         91 

took  him  years  to  get  over  it.  He  was  quite 
well  along  when  he  married  Aunt  Charlotte." 

"  How  many  children  are  there  ?"  Evelyn 
asked. 

"  Two — Charlotte  and  Larry.  They  did  not 
have  any  children  until  after  they  had  been 
married  some  time." 

Dolly  repeated  her  visit  the  next  night,  after 
her  return  from  her  uncle's.  She  found  Evelyn 
sewing,  as  was  usual  at  that  time  of  night. 
She  was  making  herself  a  nightgown. 

"  Did  you  have  a  nice  time  ?  "  she  asked,  as 
Dolly  came  in  and  seated  herself  on  the  bed. 

"Fine.  And  O  Evelyn!  Uncle  Twiller 
took  the  greatest  fancy  to  Mr.  Palmer.  He 
told  me  in  private  afterwards  that  he  quite  ap- 
proved, and  I  could  n't  convince  him  that  he  was 
mistaken.  I  never  saw  Mr.  Palmer  appear  better. 
Aunt  Charlotte  did  n't  awe  him  a  bit,  as  she 
does  lots  of  people.  He  was  perfectly  at  his 
ease,  without  being  too  much  so.  You  know 
that  way  of  his.  We  played  with  the  children 
before  dinner,  and  he  was  so  dear  with  them, 
and  they  were  climbing  all  over  him  in  five 
minutes;  and  he  told  them  a  darling  story 
about  himself  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  and 
that  won  Aunt  Charlotte's  heart.  He  must 
have  been  such  a  dear  little  boy,  and  his  love 
for  the  children  was  so  evidently  genuine ;  not 


92          The  Things  that  Count 

put  on  a  bit.  And  we  are  all  going  to  supper 
there  Sunday  night,  and  he  asked  if  the  child- 
ren might  not  sit  up  for  it.  And  Aunt  Char- 
lotte is  coming  over  to  call  to-morrow  and  ask 
you  and  Mrs.  Perkins  and  Cyril.  Oh,  dear!  I 
wish  she  did  n't  have  to  be  asked,  for  I  know 
they  won't  like  her." 

It  's  too  bad.     Is  n't  there  any  way  out  of 
it  ? "  Evelyn  asked. 

"  Imagine  her  state  of  mind  if  we  all  went 
off  to  Uncle  Twiller's,  and  she  was  n't  asked !  " 
'  The  atmosphere  would  be  electrical,"  said 
Evelyn. 

"  Oh!  and  Evelyn:  I  heard  such  an  inter- 
esting thing  about  Mr.  Palmer.  I  told  Aunt 
Charlotte,  while  he  was  smoking  with  Uncle 
Twiller,  about  his  having  been  Mr.  Atwater's 
secretary,  and  she  knew  all  about  him.  It  is 
funny  how  she  always  knows  things  about 
people,  even  people  that  she  does  n't  care  to 
know.  She  said  that  the  reason  Mr.  Palmer 
left  Mr.  Atwater  (he  has  always  been  reticent 
about  that,  you  know)  was  because  Mabel  At- 
water fell  in  love  with  him.  She  is  very  young, 
and  has  been  an  invalid  and  spoiled  all  her  life, 
and  she  always  expects  to  get  everything  she 
wants.  Well,  she  set  her  heart  on  her  father's 
secretary,  whom  he  treated  almost  like  his  son, 
and  she  took  it  into  her  silly  little  head  that  he 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive         93 

was  in  love  with  her  and  was  silent  because  of 
her  money.  Well,  she  was  very  unhappy,  and 
her  father  discovered  what  was  the  matter,  and 
he  thought  that  she  was  right ;  for  he  idolises 
her,  and  can't  see  how  any  one  could  help  ador- 
ing her,  something  like  Uncle  Twiller  and  me. 
Well,  she  convinced  him,  and  he  sounded  Mr. 
Palmer.  He  (it  must  have  been  a  pleasant  inter- 
view for  him !)  said  that  he  had  a  strong  liking 
and  friendship  for  Miss  Atwater,  but  nothing 
more,  and  utterly  declined  the  honour  of  being 
his  employer's  son-in-law.  Well,  of  course,  he 
resigned  after  that,  though  Mr.  Atwater  did  n't 
want  him  to.  Mr.  Palmer  understood  all  his 
business,  and  he  finds  it  hard  to  get  along  with- 
out him." 

'  What  fools  girls  are!  "  exclaimed  Evelyn, 
wishing  that  Dolly  would  learn  a  lesson  from 
the  tale  she  had  told. 

*  Poor  girl,  I  feel  sorry  for  her!  "  said  Dolly. 
I  told  you  about  it  as  if  I  thought  it  was 
funny,  because  Aunt  Charlotte  told  it  to  me 
that  way ;  but,  really,  I  Ve  been  feeling  un- 
happy about  her  ever  since  I  heard  it." 

Dolly's  attitude  towards  Palmer  irritated 
Evelyn  more  than  a  little.  It  was  characteris- 
tic of  the  faith  that  Dolly's  honesty  inspired, 
that  Evelyn  believed  her  when  she  said  that 
she  was  not  in  love  with  him.  Besides,  the 


94         The  Things  that  Count 

absence  of  strong  feeling  was  believable  in  her 
case.  It  was  her  making  him  of  such  tremend- 
ous consequence  that  annoyed  Evelyn.  It  was 
the  attitude  of  the  girl  who  has  never  known 
desirable  men.  She  had  evidently  just  dis- 
covered the  species,  and  was  in  the  first  enthus- 
iasm of  her  discovery.  He  was  of  importance 
to  Evelyn,  of  great  importance;  but  it  annoyed 
her  to  have  Dolly  calmly  take  it  for  granted 
that  this  was  so,  especially  in  the  absence  of 
any  apparent  interest  in  her  on  his  part.  Dolly 
spoke  his  name  as  if  she  were  saying  "  Shak- 
spere, "  and  evidently  cherished  the  honest 
belief  that,  in  spite  of  his  poverty  and  lack  of 
social  connection,  he  was  of  as  much  conse- 
quence to  every  one  of  his  acquaintances  as  to 
her.  Evelyn  was  always  nervous  when  his 
name  came  up  in  the  presence  of  any  of  their 
good  neighbours  at  Chenook, — this  attitude  of 
Dolly's  was  so  very  evident,  and  betrayed  so 
much  more  than  was  true.  She  was  always  so 
openly  glad  to  introduce  the  subject,  and  dwelt 
on  it  with  such  unconcealed  pleasure.  This 
would  not  have  been  so  bad  if  Palmer  had  re- 
turned her  interest.  He  liked  her  thoroughly, 
made  a  companion  of  her  in  a  way;  but  she 
was  evidently,  to  Evelyn  if  not  to  herself,  one 
of  a  hundred  to  him.  Evelyn  often  thought 
that  she  ought  to  undeceive  her,  but  shrank 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive         95 

from  doing  it,  because  she  was  not  sure  how 
much  irritation  and  how  much  a  true  desire  for 
Dolly's  welfare  had  to  do  with  her  conviction. 
She  wished  heartily  that  there  was  some  one  else 
to  speak  a  word  of  caution  to  her, — about  her 
lack  of  reticence,  if  nothing  else.  At  all 
events,  if  she  was  not  in  love  with  him,  she 
was  in  a  state  that  came  perilously  near  to  it.  It 
would  take  very  little  to  send  her  over  the  line. 
Evelyn  herself  felt  like  a  traitor,  that  Dolly 
did  not  know  the  real  explanation  of  Palmer's 
apparent  aversion  to  herself;  and  yet  it  seemed 
best  to  her  that  she  should  not  know.  His 
feeling  would  apparently  have  no  conse- 
quences. Palmer  was  a  strong  man,  and  he 
was  evidently  fighting  his  attraction  for  her 
with  all  the  strength  that  was  in  him.  Besides, 
it  was  a  mere  caprice,  born  of  her  face.  He 
did  not  know  her,  her  real  self,  at  all.  Here 
the  thought  on  the  other  side  of  the  argument 
presented  itself;  if  he  loved  her  while  thinking 
so  ill  of  her,  would  he  not  care  much  more 
when  he  found  out  that  she  was  not  quite  what 
he  thought  she  was  ?  His  attitude  towards 
her  in  one  respect  puzzled  her.  It  did  not 
seem  like  him  to  accept  Cyril's  estimation  of 
her  as  final,  to  the  exclusion  of  any  observa- 
tions of  his  own,  especially  now  that  Cyril  had 
evidently  modified  his  opinion  of  her. 


96         The  Things  that  Count 

Evelyn  said  to  herself  repeatedly  that  she 
did  not  wish  that  there  should  be  any  conse- 
quences; but,  still,  the  thought  that  there 
would  not  be  frightened  her  a  little.  Accord- 
ingly, she  shut  her  eyes  with  determination  to 
that  side  of  the  problem,  and  just  let  herself 
drift.  She  said  to  herself  frequently,  as  she 
had  always  done,  that  she  could  not  marry  a 
poor  man,  but  she  said  it  with  an  absence  of 
conviction.  To  her  dismay,  she  did  not  feel  her 
old  horror  at  the  prospect.  The  possession  of 
material  objects  was  not  to  her  what  it  had  been. 

The  next  morning,  a  little  before  luncheon, 
Dolly  followed  her  out  to  the  lily  pond,  so 
brimful  of  something  to  tell  her  that  she  could 
hardly  wait  until  Evelyn  finished  the  conversa- 
tion she  was  having  with  the  gardener. 

"  Oh,  but  I  've  done  a  terrible  thing!  "  she 
said  when  the  man  had  moved  away  out 
of  hearing.  "  Mrs.  Perkins  had  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Billings  yesterday,  saying  that  he  must 
see  her  on  important  business,  and  I  've  just 
let  her  telegraph  him  to  come  up  on  Sunday. 
I  had  told  her  that  Aunt  Charlotte  was  coming 
to  call,  but  luckily  I  had  n't  told  her  that  she 
was  going  to  invite  us  all  to  supper.  You  see, 
Mr.  Billings  won't  get  here  till  late  Sunday 
afternoon,  and  he  '11  have  to  go  away  Monday 
morning,  so  she  won't  be  able  to  leave  him." 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive         9? 

"That  's  great!"  said  Evelyn.  "Dolly, 
I  did  n't  know  you  were  so  deliciously  deceit- 
ful. You 're  really  quite  human,  after  all."  The 
two  girls  seldom  discussed  Mrs.  Perkins  openly. 
It  was  only  in  indirect  ways  like  the  present 
that  their  feelings  towards  her  cropped  out. 

"  It  is  really  a  great  deal  worse  for  you  to 
feel  as  you  do  about  her  than  for  me,  even  if 
I  am  her  guest,"  Evelyn  went  on,  a  minute 
later,  seating  herself  on  a  rustic  bench.  "  She 
is  very  fond  of  you,  and  she  doesn't  like  me. 
You  knew  that,  of  course  ? " 

'  Then  why  does  she  urge  you  so  to  stay 
every  time  you  speak  of  going  ?"  demanded 
Dolly,  shirking  the  question. 

"  Because  I  make  the  house  attractive  by 
my  tricks,  and  because  I  know  all  the  latest 
fads  about  clothes  and  entertaining,  and  par- 
ticularly because  I  bring  young  men  to  the 
house.  Oh,  I  earn  my  board." 

"  What  is  the  reason  she  dislikes  you  ?" 
Dolly  asked,  tacitly  admitting  the  truth  of 
Evelyn's  remark. 

"  What  do  you  think  ? " 

I  think  she  is  jealous  of  you." 

"So  do  I,"  returned  Evelyn,  calmly. 
"  Look  there,"  she  broke  off,  motioning  across 
the  pond.  Two  figures  were  moving  under 
the  trees  on  the  farther  side.  They  were  Mrs. 


98         The  Things  that  Count 

Perkins  and  her  son's  tutor.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  that  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  like  to  think  of  it,"  Dolly  an- 
swered. "  It  makes  me  ashamed." 

"  I  know  how  you  feel  about  it,"  returned 
Evelyn;  "  but,  do  you  know,  we  are  both  un- 
just. She  is  not  forty-five,  and  looks  young, 
so  why  should  we  assume  that  everything 
must  necessarily  be  over  for  her  ?  I  believe 
that  the  late  Elisha  was  anything  but  lovable." 

11  Nevertheless,  it  is  pathetic  to  me.  I  hate 
to  have  you  refer  to  it,"  said  Dolly,  looking 
away.  "  I  am  so  afraid  that  he  will  see  it," 
she  added  in  a  low  voice.  Evelyn  laughed. 

"  Do  you  think  that  he  does  not  ? "  she  de- 
manded with  a  superior  air.  "  Dolly,  you  are 
an  unsophisticated  goose.  He  is  laughing  at 
her  all  the  time." 

"That 's  not  true !  "  Dolly  declared  energetic- 
ally. "  Richard  Palmer  is  not  that  kind.  He 
is  above  that.  I  know  that  it  must  mortify  him 
even  more  than  it  does  us — than  it  does  me,  I 
mean." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  does  laugh,"  Evelyn 
admitted;  "  but  I  am  sure  he  knows  it.  How 
could  he  help  it  ?  " 

"  And  I  think  that  is  the  reason  why  she  has 
been  additionally  down  on  you  lately,"  Dolly 
continued,  in  a  low  voice.  "  It 's  funny,  Evelyn, 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive         99 

(or,  rather,  it  is  n't),  that  she  does  n't  mind  our 
being  so  much  better  friends,  Mr.  Palmer  and 
I ;  but  she  can't  bear  to  have  him  so  much 
as  speak  to  you.  She  is  always  saying  that 
there  is  something  between  you  two,  and  I  can 
never  convince  her,  except  momentarily,  that 
she  is  mistaken : — that  you  don't  like  each 
other." 

'  You  mean  that  he  does  n't  like  me,  ap- 
prove of  me,  rather.  He  likes  me  well  enough. 
You  know  I  both  like  and  admire  him  tremend- 
ously," said  Evelyn,  feeling  more  like  a  hypo- 
crite than  ever  for  deceiving  Dolly  with  the 
truth  inadequately  expressed.  '  Does  Cyril 
notice  anything  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  I  am  sure  he  does  not.  He  would  die 
of  mortification  if  he  did.  You  don't  know 
how  acutely  sensitive  that  boy  is,  and  how 
ashamed  he  is  of  his  mother  sometimes." 

'  Do  you  think  he  has  any  intentions  ?" 
asked  Evelyn. 

"Who?     Cyril?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Palmer." 

1  Evelyn  Smith,  how  can  you !  "  Dolly  ex- 
claimed indignantly. 

'  Then  how  far  do  you  think  her  intentions 
go  ? "  Evelyn  returned  calmly. 

I    don't   know.       I   have    seen   her   take 
fancies  before, — one  to  a  man  who  tried  to 


ioo       The  Things  that  Count 

marry  her  the  first  winter  I  was  with  her.  He 
was  an  impecunious  fortune-hunter;  not  a  bad 
sort  of  a  fellow,  however.  She  liked  his  flat- 
tery and  his  good  looks  and  his  little  attentions ; 
but  when  it  came  to  the  point  she  could  n't 
make  up  her  mind  to  give  up  her  independ- 
ence. Besides,  she  was  afraid  that  he  would 
spend  too  much  of  her  money.  She  is  terribly 
shrewd  in  some  ways,  and  I  often  think  that 
she  would  not  marry  again  except  to  a-  man 
with  as  much  money  as  she  has,  and  such  a 
man  would  n't  want  to  marry  her.  It  is  Mr. 
Palmer's  courteous  indifference,  such  a  change 
from  the  eager  responsiveness  of  most  of  the 
men  she  has  known,  that  makes  it  so  much  so 
with  her." 

'  You  surprise  me  sometimes,"  said  Evelyn 
slowly.  "  At  times  you  don't  see  things  at 
all,  and,  again,  you  see  everything." 

"  I  know  that  I  am  terribly  inexperienced," 
Dolly  replied  humbly.  "  I  always  feel  it,  es- 
pecially when  I  am  talking  with  you.  You 
seem  a  hundred  years  old  to  me  sometimes, 
Evelyn,  and  there  is  such  a  ridiculous  contrast 
between  your  way  of  looking  at  things  and 
your  looks." 

"  I  wish,  every  hour,  that  I  were  not  so 
terribly  disillusioned,"  Evelyn  remarked  sadly. 
"  A  person  who  has  been  in  my  position,  who 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive       101 

has  led  my  life,  has  seen  the  seamy  side  of  things 
until  she  finds  »it  hard  to  believe  that  there  is 
any  other.  Now,  once  upon  a  time,  I  should 
have  felt  just  as  you  do  about  Mrs.  Perkins; 
but  I  have  seen  so  much  of  that  sort  of  thing, 
— mature  women  making  fools  of  themselves 
over  handsome  young  men — that  my  sensibili- 
ties have  become  blunted,  as  in  many  other 
things,  and  it  seems  a  little  ridiculous  to  me  as 
well  as  mortifying." 

'  It  is  wonderful  how  clever  he  is  in  eluding 
her  invitations,"  said  Dolly.  ;<  I  supposed  it 
was  the  cleverness  of  innocence." 

"  No,  my  dear — of  knowledge.  Richard 
Palmer  is  not  unsophisticated.  Those  quiet 
blue  eyes  of  his  (they  are  lovely  eyes,  are  n't 
they,  Dolly  ?)  take  in  about  all  there  is  going. 
He  is  thoroughly  accustomed  to  women  and 
their  ways — that  is  easy  to  see.  But,"  she 
broke  off  suddenly,  struck  with  a  sudden 
thought,  "  if  Mrs.  Perkins  is  jealous  of  me  in 
that  particular  direction,  I  don't  see  why  she 
insists  on  my  staying  on." 

'  That  is  simple,"  said  Dolly.  "  She  thinks 
that  the  mischief  has  been  already  done,  and 
that  you  are  as  likely  to  undo  it  as  to  increase 
it;  and  she  would  find  it  hard  to  get  along 
without  you  here.  I  am  no  good  as  a  bait,  and 
she  must  have  something  to  attract  the  young 


102       The  Things  that  Count 

people  here.  She  does  not  care  to  settle  down 
to  middle-aged  society." 

"  I  see,"  said  Evelyn.  "  Well,  it  is  lunch 
time.  Shall  we  go  in  and  watch  la  come  die 
humaine  ?  I  '11  put  my  money  on  Mr.  Palmer." 

"  Oh,  don't !  "  exclaimed  Dolly  with  a  gesture 
of  repugnance. 

Mrs.  Van  Horn  called  that  afternoon,  and  it 
all  turned  out  as  Dolly  had  planned.  The 
invitation  was  given,  but  Mrs.  Perkins  had  to 
decline  it  for  herself.  The  girls  saw  that  she 
took  a  sort  of  pleasure  in  doing  this.  She 
would  have  liked,  above  all  things,  to  ac- 
cept an  invitation  from  Mrs.  Twiller  Van 
Horn;  but,  since  that  was  impossible,  it  was 
almost  as  satisfactory  (there  was  a  certain  addi- 
tional prestige  about  it)  to  refuse  one,  especially 
as  there  would  certainly  be  more  to  come.  Mrs. 
Van  Horn  was  very  gracious  to  everyone,  and 
expressed  her  regrets  at  Mrs.  Perkins's  refusal 
as  if  she  really  meant  them.  She  was  particu- 
larly cordial  to  Evelyn,  rather  to  that  young 
person's  surprise,  and  uttered  a  wish  that  she 
would  sing  for  them  on  Sunday  evening. 
They  had  heard  of  her  singing,  and  her  hus- 
band, who  was  excessively  fond  of  music,  was 
anxious  to  hear  her.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of 
her  kindness,  she  was  so  genuinely  the  great 
lady  that  she  awed  both  Mrs.  Perkins  and 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive        103 

Evelyn.  She  made  Evelyn  feel  unrefined  and 
pushing;  shoddy,  as  it  were;  and  she  was  con- 
scious of  being  less  at  her  ease  than  usual. 

It  was  a  great  honour;  but  it  was  a  little  of  a 
relief  to  all  when  the  call  was  over,  even  to 
Dolly,  for  she  had  felt  a  sense  of  responsibility 
about  the  impression  that  her  friends  made 
upon  her  aunt.  She  knew  that  Evelyn  could 
be  trusted  to  strike  the  right  note,  and  to  keep 
to  it,  adaptability  to  her  company  being  often 
laid  at  her  door  in  the  guise  of  a  fault ;  but  she 
shivered  a  little  inwardly  every  time  Mrs.  Per- 
kins opened,  her  mouth.  Evelyn  was  even 
more  sensitive  than  Dolly  on  the  subject,  her 
connection  with  her  hostess  being  apparently 
a  matter  of  deliberate  choice,  while  it  was  not 
possible  to  hold  any  one  accountable  for  the 
deficiencies  or  transgressions  of  her  employer. 
She  had  strong  impulses  to  interpose  herself 
between  the  two  women  and  soften  any  pos- 
sible shocks.  She  found  herself  saying  in- 
wardly to  Mrs.  Perkins:  "  Now,  why  did  you 
say  that  ?  Don't  you  know,  Mrs.  Van  Horn 
will  consider  it  in  dreadfully  bad  taste  ?  I 
would  n't  use  that  expression  if  I  were  you : 
it  is  so  plebeian."  Nevertheless,  Mrs.  Perkins 
made  no  bad  breaks,  and  the  important  visit 
passed  off  successfully. 

Dolly  had  visions  of  Mrs.  Perkins  asking  her 


104       The  Things  that  Count 

jokingly,  without  any  real  suspicion  of  her 
manoeuvre,  why  she  had  not  told  her  that 
her  aunt  was  going  to  ask  them  to  supper  Sun- 
day night,  so  she  disappeared  after  she  had 
escorted  Mrs.  Van  Horn  to  her  carriage,  and 
was  not  seen  again. until  dinner-time. 

"  What  would  you  have  said  if  she  did  ?  " 
Evelyn  asked  curiously,  when  Dolly  had  con- 
fessed her  fear  to  her. 

"  What  could  I  have  said  ?  " 

Evelyn  laughed. 

"  It  's  simple  enough.  There  are  a  dozen 
things  to  say.  I  'd  have  said,  in  a  jocose  tone, 
as  if  I  did  n't  mean  it:  '  Oh,  I  knew  you  were 
longing  for  a  tete-a-t$te  with  Mr.  Billings,'  or 
I  'd  have  asked  her,  '  How  should  I  know  it  ? ' 
or  something  of  that  sort.  Dolly,  you  have  n't 
any  inventive  faculty.  You  could  never  get  on 
in  society.  A  facility  in  telling  small  lies  is 
very  necessary." 

"  But  I  hate  to  have  you  do  that  sort  of 
thing,  Evelyn,"  Dolly  protested. 

"  Do  you  ?  Why,  I  don't  mind  it  at  all. 
It  is  a  second  nature  to  me  to  tell  lies  of  that 
kind." 

"  And  do  you  tell  them  of  other  kinds  ?" 
Dolly  demanded. 

"  Sometimes.  Not  very  often,  though. 
Still,  that  is  no  credit  to  me,  for  it  is  only 


The  Van  Horns  Arrive       105 

because  I  am  naturally  truthful — the  truth 
comes  to  my  mind  before  the  lie — that  I  don't 
tell  more.  To  tell  the  truth  this  time,  I  can 
never  outgrow  being  ashamed  of  myself  if  I 
tell  a  genuine  lie." 

'  Thank  heaven  for  that !  "  exclaimed  Dolly. 
Amen,"  returned  Evelyn. 


CHAPTER   VII 

ACCUSATIONS  AND   COUNTER-ACCUSATIONS 

IT  was  a  lovely  walk  through  the  woods  to 
the  Van   Horn  place.     Dolly  and   Evelyn 
walked  over  together  rather  early.    They  found 
Mrs.  Van  Horn  sitting  out  on  the  lawn. 

Are  n't  you  going  to  have  supper  out  of 
doors,  Aunt  Charlotte  ?  It  is  so  deliciously 
warm,"  said  Dolly,  after  they  had  done  their 
manners. 

'  We  talked  of  it,  but  your  uncle  has  been 
complaining  of  rheumatism  in  his  left  shoulder, 
so  I  thought  it  would  n't  be  safe." 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  said  Evelyn,  while 
Dolly  asked : 

"  Where  are  Uncle  Twiller  and  the  kids  ?  " 
4  They  will  be  here  in  a  minute.    The  child- 
ren  have    gone  with  their  father  to    see  the 
calf  fed.     There  they  come  now." 

The  children  rushed  across  the  lawn,  scream- 
ing with  delight  when   they  saw  Dolly,  who 
106 


Accusations  107 

was  a  great  favourite.  Mr.  Van  Horn  followed 
more  slowly.  He  greeted  Evelyn  with  his 
usual  quiet  cordiality,  and  she  fell  in  love  with 
him  on  the  spot.  Dolly  flung  her  arms  around 
him  and  gave  him  a  hug,  which  he  returned 
with  interest. 

"  You  are  such  a  darling!  "  she  exclaimed 
enthusiastically. 

;<  Dolly,  I  insist  that  you  do  not  spoil  your 
uncle  so,"  protested  her  aunt,  adding,  with 
the  nearest  approach  she  ever  came  to  a  joke: 
"  I  can't  do  anything  with  him  after  you  have 
been  with  him." 

"  Aunt  Charlotte,"  Dolly  returned  impress- 
ively, "  if  Uncle  Twiller  could  have  been 
spoiled,  he  'd  have  been  unendurable  eighty 
years  ago." 

"  Eighty  years  ago!  Well,  I  like  that!" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Van  Horn.  "  He  won't  be 
sixty-five  until  his  next  birthday." 

I  knew  that  it  was  somewhere  around 
there,"  Dolly  returned  mischievously.  Mr. 
Van  Horn  was  laughing  the  hearty  laugh  which 
always  served  him  for  repartee. 

'  You  must  n't  tease  your  aunt,"  he  said  to 

Dolly.     "  I  see  you  know  her  sensitive  point." 

Did  you  think  I  did  n't  ? "  she  demanded. 

"  I  should  like  to  show  Miss  Smith  my 
flowers,  if  she  would  care  to  go  with  me,"  Mr. 


io8       The  Things  that  Count 

Van  Horn  continued,  turning  to  Evelyn  with 
his  sunny  smile.  Evelyn  wanted  to  say  that 
she  'd  like  to  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  with 
him ;  but  this  seemed  too  effusive  with  so  re- 
cent an  acquaintance,  so  she  contented  herself 
with  saying  that  she  was  a  great  lover  of 
flowers,  which  was  strictly  true.  She  not  only 
loved  flowers,  but  knew  a  great  deal  about 
them.  She  had  a  most  delightful  half-hour 
with  the  dear  old  man  in  the  old-fashioned 
garden  in  which  he  took  so  much  pleasure. 

Do  we  have  to  go  back  ?  "  she  asked  re- 
gretfully, when  he  started  to  rise  from  the 
bench  on  which  they  had  been  sitting,  oppos- 
ite a  bed  of  tall  lilies.  Mr.  Van  Horn  smiled 
with  pleasure,  although  he  was  used  to  being 
made  much  of  by  the  girls  who  came  to  the 
house. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  it  is  supper-time,"  he 
said.  They  stood  smiling  at  each  other  for  a 
second.  Then  Evelyn  stretched  out  her  hand. 

"  I  like  you  so  much,"  she  exclaimed  im- 
pulsively. "Of  course,  I  am  not  thinking  of 
doing  it,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  could  tell  you  all  my 
secrets." 

"Have  you  any  ?  "  he  asked,  lowering  his 
voice  with  an  air  of  mystery. 

"  Lots !  "  she  returned  in  the  same  tone.  He 
took  her  hand  in  both  his. 


Accusations  109 

"  We  will  be  friends,"  he  said,  relapsing  into 
his  usual  manner.  "  It  is  the  privilege,  the 
great  privilege,  of  my  age." 

"  It  was  absolutely  genuine,"  Evelyn  said 
to  herself  as  they  walked  back  in  sympathetic 
silence  to  join  the  others.  :<  It  was  entirely 
spontaneous  and  unpremeditated.  I  forgot 
utterly  that  he  was  Twiller  Van  Horn,  and  all 
that  that  implies.  Still,  I  suppose  this  beauti- 
ful setting  has  something  to  do  with  his  attract- 
iveness," she  added  honestly. 

They  found  Cyril  and  his  tutor  on  the  lawn 
with  Dolly,  her  aunt,  and  the  children.  The 
children  had  taken  possession  of  Palmer,  and 
he  rose  to  speak  to  his  host  with  them  festooned 
about  him.  Evelyn  was  gratified  at  Mr.  Van 
Horn's  evident  pleasure  at  greeting  him,  and 
she  admired  the  way  he  made  Cyril  welcome 
and  at  home. 

Evelyn  sat  by  her  host  at  supper.  She  felt 
thoroughly  contented,  happier  than  she  had 
been  for  a  long  time,  the  atmosphere  was  so 
congenial.  There  was  an  air  of  harmony,  of 
affection,  of  mutual  sympathy  in  this  house- 
hold that  she  had  rarely  found.  She  envied 
Dolly  her  freedom  of  it.  She  was  much  quieter 
than  usual,  but  her  companions  who  knew  her 
well  thought  that  they  had  never  seen  her 
more  attractive.  Evelyn  herself  felt  acutely 


no       The  Things  that  Count 

conscious  of  an  unusual  power  to  charm  with- 
out doing  anything,  simply  by  the  force  of  her 
own  personality.  She  lay  back,  and  let  it  do 
the  work  for  her.  The  children  had  their  sup- 
per at  a  side  table,  where  their. nurse  waited  on 
them.  Charlotte,  who  was  an  outrageous 
coquette  for  any  age,  kept  exchanging  signif- 
icant glances  with  Palmer.  She  finally  de- 
manded that  he  should  come  over  and  eat  his 
dessert  with  her  and  Larry.  It  was  an  interest- 
ing experience  for  Evelyn  to  see  him  with  the 
children.  She  was  not  so  very  fond  of  them 
herself,  except  in  the  abstract,  but  she  pre- 
ferred that  other  people  should  be.  She  loved 
the  idea  of  children  ;  but,  in  reality,  their  noise, 
their  countless  small  exactions,  their  continual 
demands  on  one's  time  and  attention,  wearied 
her.  Then,  in  the  houses  that  she  had  visited, 
she  had  been  so  often  at  the  mercy  of  spoiled 
children,  whose  parents  she  could  not  afford  to 
offend,  that  she  exaggerated  the  discomfort 
that  they  caused.  Charlotte  and  Larry  were 
not  allowed  to  be  troublesome,  though  they 
were  such  obstreperous  children  that  the  firmest 
of  hands  was  necessary  to  keep  them  from  being 
so.  Mrs.  Van  Horn  complained  that  her  hus- 
band spoiled  them,  and  that  she  had  to  be 
doubly  strict  in  consequence. 

"  Don't  I  always  make  them  mind,   Char- 


Accusations  1 1 1 

lotte  ?  "  he  demanded,  when  his  wife  brought 
forward  this  charge  after  the  children  had 
gone  to  bed. 

"Yes,  but,  Twiller,  you,  you  —  love  them 
so  —  I  suppose  that  is  really  the  trouble,"  she 
broke  off.  '  They  are  of  such  immense  conse- 
quence to  him,  and  they  realise  it,  and  put 
themselves  forward.  They  are  of  great  conse- 
quence to  me,  too,"  she  added  to  Dolly,  "  but 
I  hide  it  better." 

"  When  Uncle  Twiller  loves,  or  even  likes 
people,  he  does  it  twice  as  hard  as  other  people. 
It  shines  out  of  his  eyes  and  in  his  smile  and 
the  benevolent  look  on  his  face,  and  all  over," 
said  Dolly. 

"  And  how  about  the  people  whom  Mr.  Van 
Horn  does  n't  like  ?  "  Evelyn  asked,  smiling 
at  her  host,  who  smiled  back  at  her. 

.  "  There  are  n't  very  many,  but  I  can  tell  it 
in  a  minute.     He  is  so  terribly  polite  to  them." 

"  Am  I  not  always  polite  ?  I  hoped  that  I 
was,"  said  her  uncle,  plaintively. 

You  are,  but  not  too  polite.     You  are  too 
polite  when  you  don't  like  people." 

After  supper,  Mrs.  Van  Horn  asked  Evelyn 
to  sing.  Mr.  Van  Horn  demanded  coon  songs, 
so  she  went  to  the  piano  with  a  deprecatory 
smile  at  Palmer,  which  he  did  not  return.  He 
had  taken  no  notice  of  her  at  all  that  evening. 


1 1 2       The  Things  that  Count 

Mr.  Van  Horn  was  delighted  with  her  singing. 
He  seemed  to  have  kept  his  faculties  of  enjoy- 
ment wonderfully  for  a  man  of  his  age.  He 
demanded  more,  and  made  her  repeat  songs 
that  he  liked  until  his  wife  protested : 

"  My  dear,  you  will  tire  Miss  Smith  out." 

"  Miss  Smith  and  I  have  sworn  eternal 
friendship,  and  she  would  tell  me  if  she  were 
tired,  would  n't  you,  Miss  Smith  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  that  I  could  get  tired,"  she 
replied,  so  evidently  meaning  "  singing  to 
you  "  that  they  all  laughed. 

"  It  's  the  most  barefaced  thing  I  ever  saw," 
Dolly  said  aloud ;  then  added,  in  an  aside  to 
Palmer:  "  Did  you  ever  see  Evelyn  look  so 
beautiful?  " 

"  Never,"  he  replied,  coldly. 

Cyril  had  seemed  a  little  out  of  it  at  supper, 
and  now  Mr.  Van  Horn  tried  to  make  him 
talk.  He  was  not  successful  until  Palmer  came 
to  the  rescue.  He  himself  began  to  talk  to  Mr. 
Van  Horn,  first  about  the  lighting  of  country 
houses,  a  subject  which  came  up  naturally, 
then  about  electricity  and  electrical  inventions. 
Presently  he  referred  to  Cyril  some  point  that 
Mr.  Van  Horn  raised,  and  in  a  few  minutes  it 
was  Cyril  who  was  doing  the  talking.  Mr. 
Van  Horn  was  a  widely  intelligent  man,  well 
informed  on  many  subjects,  and  his  interest  in 


Accusations  113 

what  Cyril  had  to  say  was  genuine.  The  boy's 
eyes  brightened,  his  heavy  features  became 
animated,  he  appeared  like  a  different  person. 

"  I  should  not  wonder  if  he  were  a  really 
handsome  man  when  he  is  middle-aged," 
Evelyn  said  to  Dolly  in  a  low  voice. 

When  it  came  time  to  go  home,  Mr.  Van 
Horn  detained  Evelyn  for  a  minute,  and,  as 
Dolly  and  Cyril  had  already  started  on,  there 
was  nothing  for  Palmer  to  do  but  to  wait  for 
her. 

' '  What  a  dear  old  man  he  is !  "  she  said,  when 
they  were  some  distance  from  the  house  and 
the  silence  that  continued  between  them  was 
getting  embarrassing. 

"  He  certainly  is,"  Palmer  replied  coldly. 
'  He  has  such  a  lovable  nature  that  you  feel 
it  in  everything  he  says  or  does.  A  really 
nice  old  man,  or  old  woman  either,  is  such  an 
unusual  phenomenon.  It  makes  me  want  to 
study  the  art  of  growing  old  gracefully." 
Palmer  did  not  reply,  very  rudely,  as  Evelyn 
thought.  This  made  her  angry,  and  she  con- 
tinued with  unnatural  calmness:  "  I  suppose 
you  thought  I  was  trying  to  make  myself 
agreeable  from  interested  motives." 

'  Were  you  not  ?  "  he  asked  with  cool  im- 
pertinence. 

"Undoubtedly!"      she     replied,     bitterly. 


IH       The  Things  that  Count 

"  Of  course  a  parasite  like  me  (I  suppose  that 
is  what  you  call  me  ?)  has  no  natural  impulses 
left.  It  is  all  policy  with  me." 

"  I  would  give  worlds  to  know  beyond  a 
doubt  that  it  was  not  true,"  he  returned,  with 
suppressed  feeling. 

Mr.  Palmer,"  Evelyn  began  with  forced 
calmness,  "  do  you  think  that  you  are  fair  to 
me  ?  I  do  not  understand  your  attitude  to- 
wards me  in  the  least.  It  seems  so  unlike  you 
as  I  see  you  to  be  in  other  things.  I  should 
otherwise  believe  that  you  were  a  thoroughly 
just  man,  unprejudiced,  fair  even  to  those  you 
dislike ;  that  you  never  formed  your  opinions 
on  hearsay  evidence,  and  were  too  proud  not 
to  acknowledge  a  mistake.  This  is  the  opinion 
of  you  that  I  am  forced  to  hold  in  spite  of 
your  treatment  of  me." 

'  What  do  you  mean  by  the  hearsay  evid- 
ence that  you  say  I  have  condemned  you 
on  ?  "  he  asked. 

'  You  know  perfectly  well, — what  Cyril  said 
to  you  about  me  that  night." 

' '  You  are  mistaken  about  that, ' '  he  returned, 
calmly.  ;<  I  admit  that  it  may  have  added 
colour  to  my  beliefs,  but  it  had  nothing  to  do 
with  my  forming  them.  That  was  a  mere 
boyish  prejudice  on  his  part,  even  if  it  were, 
to  some  extent,  founded  on  truth.  He  has 


Accusations  1 1 5 

quite  got  over  it  now,  and  is  ready  to  lie  down 
at  your  feet  if  you  will  only  pat  your  knee.  I 
formed  my  opinion  of  you  before  I  ever  set  eyes 
on  your  face,  your  beautiful  face,"  he  added 
as  unconcernedly  as  if  he  were  speaking  of  the 
landscape.  "  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  to 
be  here,  but  I  knew  you — on  hearsay  evidence, 
I  admit,  but  the  circumstantial  proof  was 
strong." 

'  You  are  surely  going  to  explain  what  you 
mean  ?  "  she  asked,  as  he  stopped  and  did  not 
continue. 

1  What  is  the  use  ?  It  would  only  be  pain- 
ful to  both  of  us.  Let  us  end  this  scene  and 
catch  up  with  the  others."  Evelyn  stopped 
short. 

'  That  is  the  unfairest  thing  yet  !  "  she  ex- 
claimed indignantly.  ;<  I  insist  on  your  ex- 
plaining what  you  mean.  It  is  only  just  to 
me." 

'  Very  well.  You  do  not  know  that  I  am 
Arthur  Hunt's  most  intimate  friend,  and  that 
I  lived  at  his  house  at  the  time  of  that  little 
episode  with  you.  You  can  know,  if  it  gives 
you  any  satisfaction,  that  you  spoiled  his  life 
for  the  time  being  as  completely  as  a  woman 
could  do  it." 

'  He  seems  to  have  consoled  himself," 
Evelyn  remarked  insolently. 


n6       The  Things  that  Count 

'  Yes,  thank  heaven !  You  see,  you  did  the 
thing  up  so  thoroughly  that  his  getting  over  it 
was  merely  a  question  of  time.  It  was  con- 
siderate of  you  not  to  stop  short  of  where  you 
did.  He  told  me  that  he  sat  next  to  you  at  a 
dinner  somewhere  last  winter,  that  he  was  per- 
fectly conscious  of  your  beauty  and  your 
charm,  but  that  you  never  gave  him  a  sensa- 
tion." 

"  I  could  have  if  I  'd  wanted  to.  Indeed,  I 
had  a  sensation  for  him  in  my  pocket  that  cir- 
cumstances made  me  decide  not  to  give  him. 
But,  Mr.  Palmer,  has  it  never  occurred  to  you 
that  there  may  be  another  side  to  that  story, 
as  to  most  others  ?  " 

I  don't  see  how  anything  could  alter  the 
facts  of  the  case." 

And  you  a  lawyer  ?     I  should  not  put  a 
case  in  your  hands." 

;<  It  is  all  very  well  for  you  to  laugh,"  he 
broke  out  savagely.  "  I  suppose  it  is  a  laugh- 
ing matter  to  you  to  do  what  you  did;  but  I 
assure  you  it  was  no  such  thing  to  him,  and  it 
is  not  to  me.  When  we  last  talked  about  you, 
after  that  dinner  (we  had  not  mentioned  you 
before  for  nearly  two  years),  he  said  to  me :  '  It 
is  all  dead  now,  but  I  am  a  much  poorer  man 
for  that  experience.  It  hurt  me  in  a  way  that 
I  shall  never  get  over.  I  made  up  my  mind 


Accusations  117 

that  I  would  not  let  it  hurt  my  faith  in  women  ; 
but  I  find  that  I  have  n't  been  able  to  help  its 
doing  so.  I  have  lost  my  illusions.  Life  will 
never  be  to  me  what  it  was  before.'  ' 

A  pause  followed  these  words.  They  walked 
on  in  silence  for  a  while.  It  was  a  beautiful 
warm  summer's  night.  Not  a  breeze  was  stir- 
ring, and  the  moon,  which  was  just  entering  its 
second  quarter,  threw  tree  shadows  on  the  road 
in  front  of  them.  The  woods  crept  close 
around,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  all  sorts  of 
spicy,  woodsy  odours.  The  moaning  of  a 
dove  or  the  hooting  of  an  owl  was  heard 
occasionally,  and  the  crackling  of  a  twig  now 
and  then  showed  that  the  world  around  them 
was  not  so  uninhabited  as  it  seemed. 

Evelyn  was  feeling  very  unhappy  at  her  first 
realisation  of  the  far-reaching  consequences  of 
an  episode  which  she  had  heretofore  thought 
of  chiefly  as  it  concerned  herself.  It  was  a 
very  different  thing  to  think  vaguely  of  a  man's 
unhappiness  because  of  her,  and  to  have  it 
brought  home  to  her  in  that  definite  way.  It 
seemed  a  terrible  thing  to  have  taken  the 
glamour  from  life  for  a  fellow-being.  Her 
regret  and  the  influence  of  the  sweet,  harmon- 
ious night  around  her  were  softening  her  mood 
when  her  companion  turned  on  her  suddenly 
with  these  words,  full  of  the  deepest  feeling: 


n8        The  Things  that  Count 

"  What  did  you  do  it  for  ?  Tell  me.  Was 
it  vanity  ?  Is  it  a  necessity  of  your  nature  to 
have  the  admiration  of  every  man  who  comes 
near  you  ?  Or  was  it  because  you  thought 
that  you  might  have  some  use  for  him  until  a 
richer  man  came  in  sight  ?  Hunt  was  too 
good  a  fellow  to  make  a  plaything  of.  Good 
God,  I  believe  it  hurts  me  more  than  it  did 
him!  I  would  give  anything  in  heaven  or 
earth  if  you  had  n't  done  this  thing.  Why 
don't  you  say  something  ?  "  he  went  on  pas- 
sionately, as  she  did  not  answer.  '  Here,  tell 
me  the  truth.  I  will  try  to  believe  you,  what- 
ever you  say.  Did  you  deliberately  encourage 
Arthur  Hunt,  let  him  believe  that  you  cared 
for  him,  and  then  throw  him  over  in  that  cold- 
blooded fashion  ?  " 

That  "  I  will  try  to  believe  "  had  spoiled 
everything.  Evelyn's  pride  was  up  in  arms. 
She  would  not  defend  herself. 

"  I  did  exactly  that,"  she  replied  calmly. 

"  And  were  n't  you  sorry  for  what  you  made 
him  suffer  ?  " 

"  I  was  rather  absorbed  in  my  own  sensations 
about  that  time,"  she  answered  indifferently. 
They  walked  in  silence  up  the  driveway  to  Mrs. 
Perkins's  house,  with  no  thought  of  the  beauty  of 
the  night,  which  seemed  made  for  other  things 
than  quarrellings  and  misunderstandings. 


Accusations  119 

'  There,  they  are  waiting  for  us.  We  have 
only  a  minute.  Tell  me  quickly.  Have  you 
really  no  excuse  or  explanation  •?  I  can  hardly 
believe  it." 

"  I  have  none  to  give  you,"  Evelyn  an- 
swered coldly.  '  Well,  Dolly,  what  did  you 
run  away  from  us  for  ?  " 

"  You  must  have  just  crawled,"  said  Dolly. 
'  I  thought  that  we  had  better  all  appear  to- 
gether," she  added  in  an  aside  to  Evelyn. 

I  am  not  coming  in.     Good-night,"  said 
Palmer,  turning  around  and  walking  off. 

'  Well,  that  was  abrupt.  What  have  you 
and  he  been  doing,  Miss  Smith  ?  "  Cyril  asked. 
Quarrelling,  principally.  Mr.  Palmer  under- 
took to  lecture  me  about  some  of  the  sins  of 
my  youth  which  have  found  me  out,  and  as  I 
resented  it, — naturally, — our  walk  was  n't  pleas- 
ant. Well,  I  think  I  '11  follow  his  example.  I 
will  go  to  bed  and  sleep  it  off;  for  I  have  a 
constitutional  dislike  of  disagreeable  things, 
which  has  kept  me  from  doing  my  duty  a  great 
many  times,  I  regret  to  say." 

Evelyn  was  one  of  those  fortunate  people 
who  find  it  impossible  to  remain  angry  for 
long  at  a  time.  Consequently,  she  awoke  the 
next  morning  to  find  that  her  indignation  had 
evaporated,  and  had  left  a  regret  in  its  place 
that  she  had  not  told  Palmer  the  true  story  of 


120       The  Things  that  Count 

her  relations  with  Arthur  Hunt.  Undoubtedly 
she  had  been  very  much  to  blame,  but  not  so 
much  so  as  he  believed  her  to  be.  Neverthe- 
less, her  pride  would  not  let  her  make  any  ad- 
vances, and  they  lived  in  a  state  of  armed 
neutrality  towards  one  another  for  some  time 
afterwards.  They  saw  each  other  only  in  com- 
pany, for  the  neighbourhood  had  become  very 
gay,  and  although  they  each  took  star  parts 
wherever  they  happened  to  be,  they  never 
played  together.  Evelyn  went  out  a  great 
deal  with  Mrs.  Perkins,  but  Palmer  appeared 
only  when  it  was  impossible  to  manufacture  a 
plausible  excuse  for  staying  away.  Attractive 
young  men  were  so  few  at  Chenook  that  his 
being  Cyril's  tutor  was  not  even  thought  of. 

One  day  she  was  seated  with  Mrs.  Perkins 
on  the  veranda,  discussing  an  invitation  that 
had  just  arrived,  when  Palmer  came  out  of  the 
house  on  his  way  home.  Evelyn  had  suspected 
Mrs.  Perkins's  intention  of  waylaying  him,  and 
had  meant  to  take  herself  discreetly  out  of  the 
way,  but  her  hostess  had  detained  her  until 
too  late. 

"  I  have  an  invitation  for  you  to  the  Lorri- 
mers' picnic  tea,  Mr.  Palmer,"  that  lady  began. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  them  to  ask  me,"  he  re- 
turned. 

1  You  are  going,  of  course  ?  " 


Accusations  121 

"No,  I  believe  not." 

1  You  are  making  a  regular  hermit  of  your- 
self." 

'  Well,  you  see,  I  have  work  to  do.  Be- 
sides, I  went  through  all  this  sort  of  thing 
when  I  was  younger,  and  I  had  enough  to  last 
me  for  life." 

Evelyn  thought  that  she  had  now  stayed  long 
enough  not  to  make  her  retiring  seem  pointed, 
so  she  got  up  and  walked  slowly  down  the  steps 
and  off  in  the  direction  of  the  lily  pond.  She 
went  slowly,  in  order  not  to  seem  in  a  hurry 
to  get  away, — so  slowly  that  she  heard  dis- 
tinctly what  followed : 

'  You  never  go  with  us  anywhere.  Won't 
you  go  if  I  ask  you  to  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  can't,  Mrs.  Perkins.  I 
hate  to  seem  disobliging,  but  if  you  knew  how 
I  hate  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

'  You  are  very  unkind."  This  was  said  in 
a  tone  that  Evelyn  had  never  heard  her  use 
before,  and  it  made  her  feel  both  ashamed  for 
her  and  angry  at  Palmer.  She  did  not  hear  his 
answer  to  this,  but  Mrs.  Perkins's  voice  rose 
clearly  and  distinctly  in  these  words: 

"  You  never  do  a  thing  I  want  you  to.  I 
fairly  fling  civilities  at  your  head,  and  you 
treat  me  like  so  much  mud."  Evelyn  hurried 
on  and  heard  no  more.  She  took  the  direction 


122        The  Things  that  Count 

in  which  Palmer  would  come  on  his  way  to  the 
Andrews's,  and  waited  for  him  beside  a  clump 
of  rhododendrons.  Presently  she  saw  him  com- 
ing down  the  path,  a  stern,  troubled  expression 
on  his  face.  She  stepped  out  and  stood  wait- 
ing for  him.  He  frowned  when  he  saw  her, 
but  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  to 
come  on. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Smith,"  he  said  with 
elaborate  politeness,  as  if  he  had  not  seen  her 
before,  lifting  his  cap  clear  off  his  head. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Mr.  Palmer;  may  I  have 
the  honour  of  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with 
you  ? " 

'  With  the  greatest  pleasure." 

I  will  sit  down,  if  you  don't  mind,"  she 
said,  dropping  her  formal  tone  and  sitting  down 
on  a  little  bank  beside  the  road.  He  stationed 
himself  in  front  of  her. 

"  Mr.  Palmer,"  she  began:  "  I  wonder  if 
you  have  realised  the  size  of  the  beam  in  your 
own  eye  ? " 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  he  replied  coldly. 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  fair  to  condemn  me  for 
things  that  you  do  yourself  ?  " 

'  Will  you  condescend  to  some  details, 
please  ? " 

"  Certainly.  It  was  solely  out  of  considera- 
tion for  your  feelings  that  I  spoke  so  generally. 


Accusations  123 

Do  you  think  it  is  right,  to  speak  perfectly 
openly,  to  gratify  your  vanity  at  Mrs.  Perkins's 
expense  ? " 

"  It  is  not  my  fault,  as  you  know  perfectly 
well,"  he  answered  doggedly,  colouring  a  little 
at  her  words,  but  not  pretending  to  misunder- 
stand her.  '  I  can't  help  it,  if  the  woman  's  a 
fool.  I  have  n't  done  anything." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  did  n't  do  anything  in 
the  case  of  Miss  Atwater " 

"Who  told  you  about  that?"  he  inter- 
rupted angrily.  Evelyn  had  never  seen  him 
in  such  a  thoroughly  bad  temper.  He  made 
very  little  attempt  to  control  himself. 

"  Or  of  Dolly,"  she  continued,  without 
noticing  his  interruption. 

'  That  is  not  true.  Miss  Van  Horn  has 
nothing  but  friendship  for  me,"  he  protested 
fiercely. 

It  is  only  because  she  has  so  much  com- 
mon sense.  It  is  not  your  fault  that  she  is  not 
worshipping  at  your  shrine  with  your  other 
adorers."  Evelyn  was  enjoying  herself  com- 
pletely by  this  time.  She  felt  a  savage  satis- 
faction in  being  as  disagreeable  as  she  knew 
how  to  be.  It  gave  her  positive  pleasure  to 
hurt  him  as  he  had  hurt  her.  He  had  made 
her  very  unhappy  these  last  few  weeks,  and  he 
should  pay  for  it.  She  knew  that  she  would 


124       The  Things  that  Count 

be  heartily  repentant  for  her  unfairness,  her 
perversion  of  the  truth,  but  she  did  not  care. 
She  felt  reckless.  '  You  must  have  known 
how  inexperienced  she  is  —  anybody  could  se£ 
it,"  she  continued.  "  She  has  never  known  a 
man  intimately  in  her  life.  You  knew  this, 
and  you  knew  how  easy  it  is  for  a  woman  to 
care  for  a  man  who  gives  her  the  first  taste  of 
the  things  she  has  always  longed  for;  you 
knew  this,  and  yet  you  have  sought  her  so- 
ciety, made  an  intimate  friend  of  her,  regard- 
less of  consequences.  The  thing  that  has  saved 
her  is  that  she  is  neither  sentimental  nor  sus- 
ceptible; and,  even  as  it  is,  it  would  take  only 
one  move  forward  on  your  part  to  spoil  her 
life;  not  for  a  moment,  as  you  say  I  spoiled 
Arthur  Hunt's,  but  for  all  time.  No,  I  am 
not  jealous.  If  you  were  of  a  hundred  times 
as  much  consequence  to  me,  I  could  n't  be 
jealous  of  Dolly  Van  Horn.  I  did  not  mean 
to  speak  so  contemptuously,"  she  broke  off 
abruptly.  "  She  is  a  good  friend  of  mine,  and 
worth  a  dozen  of  me — but,  oh!  so  powerless." 

"  If  she  had  power,  she  would  use  it  well," 
Palmer  remarked  calmly.  His  anger  seemed 
to  have  evaporated  suddenly. 

"  If  she  had  power,  she  would  not  be  the 
same  person;  so  you  cannot  tell,"  returned 
Evelyn. 


Accusations  125 

"  I  know  that  you  are  mistaken  about  her," 
he  continued.     "  She  is  not  within  a  thousand 
miles  of  caring  for  me  in  that  way." 
Perhaps  not,"  said  Evelyn. 

"  And  I  shall  see  that  she  does  not  get  there 
through  any  fault  of  mine,"  he  added.  He 
seated  himself  on  the  bank  beside  Evelyn. 
Their  mutual  defiance  had,  for  some  incompre- 
hensible reason,  faded  away.  Evidently,  he 
was  prepared  for  a  friendly  discussion  of  the 
subject. 

"  It  makes  me  feel  like  a  fool  to  be  con- 
sciously prudent  in  such  matters,"  he  began. 
"  I  should  feel  ashamed  of  my  vanity  if  I  de- 
liberately kept  out  of  a  woman's  way,  or  con- 
cealed my  liking  for  her,  for  fear  she  should 
mistake  it  for  something  stronger,  and  come  to 
care  more  for  me  than  I  did  for  her.  Still,  I 
have  had  one  or  two  awkward  experiences. 
You  referred  to  one  yourself,  though  I  can't 
imagine  how  you  knew  about  it.  Goodness 
knows,  I  have  never  mentioned  it  to  a  soul. 
Well,  these  have  made  me  careful.  I  tell  you 
quite  frankly  that  I  have  thought  of  this  pos- 
sibility in  the  case  of — of  your  friend  "  (he 
lowered  his  voice,  and  there  was  a  little  embar- 
rassment in  his  face  as  he  said  this);  "  not 
because  I  consider  myself  irresistible,  to  save 
you  the  trouble  of  saying  it,  but  because  I 


i26       The  Things  that  Count 

know  how  unused  to  men  she  is.  She  takes 
the  little  every-day  civilities  at  so  much  more 
than  their  cash  value  that  I  have  had  to  be 
careful  that  she  did  not  deceive  herself.  I  give 
you  my  word  of  honour  that  I  have  never  made 
an  advance  to  her,  much  as  I  like  and  respect 
her.  I  have  never  invited  her  so  much  as  to 
take  a  walk  with  me.  Everything  that  we 
have  done  together  has  been  arranged  without 
any  action  on  my  part.  You  may  not  believe 
me  (if  you  knew  the  inside  history,  you  would), 
but  I  have  kept  out  of  the  way  of  intimacy 
with  her,  rather  than  courted  it.  I  never  talk 
to  her  about  myself,  about  my  feelings  or  de- 
sires. I  have  never  talked  on  sentimental  sub- 
jects with  her,  never  once.  We  always  keep 
to  material  things  and  abstract  or  impersonal 
topics.  We  have  discussed  Greek  plays  by  the 
hour,  for  instance,  and  things  like  that." 

'  What  a  stupid  time  you  must  have  had!  " 
exclaimed  Evelyn  contemptuously.  "  And  to 
think  that  I  have  always  envied  you  your  good 
times!  Dolly  is  even  more  unsophisticated 
than  I  supposed." 

"  And  I  have  always  believed — I  do  still  be- 
lieve— that  she  has  a  sincere  friendship  for  me, 
and  nothing  more.  I  have  never  seen  a  symp- 
tom of  anything  warmer,  and  I  assure  you  that 
I  should  have  noticed  them  if  there  had  been 


Accusations  127 

any.  /  am  not  unsophisticated.  You  know 
that  she  does  n't  care,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  She  says  she  does  n't,"  Evelyn  began; 
then  ended  honestly:  "and  I  believe  her.  I 
know  that  she  is  not  in  love  with  you ;  but  I 
think  that  you  could  make  her  so  in  about  five 
minutes,  so  I  advise  you  to  continue  to  be 
careful." 

"  Hang  it!  "  he  exclaimed  vehemently,  "  1 
wish  to  heaven  I  had  never  come  to  this  ac- 
cursed place!  If  I  could  decently  get  away 
to-morrow,  I  'd  do  it." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  stay  comfortably, 
if  the  end  of  your  scene  with  Mrs.  Perkins  was 
anything  like  the  part  I  heard."  Palmer 
changed  his  position  and  moved  a  little  nearer. 
Both  had  a  delightful  sense  of  intimacy,  a 
sense  that  it  was  possible  to  say  anything  to 
each  other,  and  to  say  it  with  no  danger  of  a 
misunderstanding  or  of  any  disapproval  for  un- 
reserve. 

"  We  patched  it  up  at  the  end,"  he  said. 
"  She  made  some  explanation  of  her  vehem- 
ence,— a  toothache  that  had  been  keeping  her 
awake,  and  it  passed  as  sufficient. " 

"  She  has  really  had  a  toothache  for  several 
days,  and  there  is  no  dentist  nearer  than 
Haverly.  She  will  have  to  go  there  if  it  keeps 
on." 


128       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  away,"  he  continued. 
"  My  position  here  is  intolerable;  but  I  can't 
reconcile  it  to  my  conscience  to  leave  Cyril  in 
the  lurch,  now  that  he  has  really  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  to  college.  I  agreed  to  put  him 
through,  and  I  have  got  to  do  it,  whether  I  like 
it  or  not.  It  makes  me  so  ashamed,"  he  broke 
off,  the  colour  coming  into  his  face. 

It  does  n't  tempt  you  ?  " 
'  Tempt  me!     Good  heavens,  no!  "  he  ex- 
claimed indignantly,  his  eyes  blazing  blue  fire 
at  her. 

"  It  would  n't  be  such  an  unheard-of  thing," 
she  continued,  perfectly  undaunted. 

"  Not  in  my  philosophy,"  he  went  on  more 
calmly.  "  Great  Scott!  if  I  married  for  any 
reason  but  the  one,  that  I  loved  a  woman  and 
desired  to  make  her  my  very  own,  I  'd  hate 
her  in  a  week,  and  strangle  her  in  her  sleep  be- 
fore a  month  was  up.  I  suppose  this  is  one 
reason  that  makes  me  so  hard  on  you,  Evelyn." 
He  called  her  by  her  name  as  naturally  as  if 
he  had  always  used  it.  "I  have  a  personal 
repulsion  to  being  the  object  of  a  feeling  that 
I  do  not  share,  and  for  that  reason  I  under- 
estimate your  temptations." 

I  only  want  people  to  like  me  up  to  a  cer- 
tain point,"  she  answered.  "  It  makes  me 
uneasy  if  they  do  not,  and  I  try  to  make  them ; 


Accusations  1 29 

but  I  don't  want  them  to  care  too  much.     I 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"  I  can't  reconcile  that  to  what  you  yourself 
admitted  about  Hunt,"  he  objected. 

'  Think  about  it,  and  see  if  some  explana- 
tion of  that  affair  does  not  suggest  itself  to 
you."  She  rose  to  her  feet.  He  caught  her 
by  her  dress  and  held  her. 

"  Don't  go!  "  he  pleaded.  "  Tell  me  what 
you  mean." 

"  I  don't  intend  to.  Let  me  go,  please.  I 
hear  somebody  whistling.  It  is  Cyril,  and  I 
think  he  is  coming  this  way." 

"  Well,  what  if  he  is  ?" 

"  I  don't  wish  it  to  seem  as  if  we  had  been 
playing  a  part." 

"  Are  we  not,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes;  but  I  don't  care  to  have  them  know 
it.  Good-by. " 

This  interview  pleased  Evelyn  greatly.  She 
had  felt  beforehand  that  it  would  be  a  test  of 
her  power  over  Palmer.  He  would  talk  freely 
to  her  about  his  relations  to  other  women  only 
if  he  had  a  distinct  consciousness  of  her  near- 
ness to  himself,  such  as  only  a  strong  senti- 
mental feeling  gives.  He  was  not  a  man  to 
discuss  subjects  of  that  nature  with  people  in 
general,  or,  indeed,  with  people  in  particular. 
The  whole  affair  with  Mrs.  Perkins  was 


130       The  Things  that  Count 

evidently  especially  distasteful,  and  she  felt 
that  he  would  have  shrunk  from  all  allusion  to 
it  from  anyone  else,  even  if  the  tradition  of 
honour  had  not  kept  him  from  discussing  it. 
She  called  this  sentiment  '  the  tradition 
of  honour,"  because  she  had  come  to  look 
upon  the  relations  of  men  and  women  in 
what  she  considered  a  rational  way.  She 
could  not  make  herself  feel  that  there  was 
anything  so  sacred  as  to  make  it  unmentionable 
in  the  fancy,  or  even  the  love,  of  a  woman  for 
a  man.  It  would  be  considered  legitimate  for 
a  woman  to  discuss,  seriously  and  with  respect, 
the  love  of  a  man  for  herself  with  a  friend 
whom  she  trusted,  supposing  that  she  was  be- 
traying no  confidence,  that  the  fact  was  known 
already  to  her  companion ;  why,  then,  should 
it  not  be  equally  so  for  a  man  who  was  absol- 
utely free  from  complacency  or  pride  in  the 
achievement  ?  She  disliked  the  appearance  of 
bestowing  the  undue  importance  on  an  unre- 
turned  love  that  was  given  by  the  relegating  of 
the  subject  to  the  unspeakable.  To  be  able  to 
speak  about  such  things  simply  and  naturally, 
as  a  usual  thing  that  might  befall  any  woman, 
was  surely  a  more  respectful  way  of  treating 
them  than  to  pass  them  over  with  blushing 
cheeks,  averted  head,  and  abrupt  change  of 
subject,  as  of  something  too  mortifying  to  be 


Accusations  131 

spoken  of  at  all.  So  Evelyn  felt  that  she  pre- 
ferred a  man  should  treat  such  a  feeling  of 
hers,  if  such  a  one  had  existed,  provided  always 
that  he  betrayed  no  confidence  and  showed  no 
elation.  And  now,  in  this  case,  it  deepened 
her  sense  of  Palmer's  distance  from  priding 
himself  on  his  conquests,  that  there  was  no 
awe,  no  solemnity  in  his  manner  of  dealing 
with  them.  It  evidently  was  not  of  tremend- 
ous importance  to  him  that  these  women 
should  fancy  his  blue  eyes  and  loyal,  straight- 
forward nature.  Women  loved  men  who  did 
not  return  their  love  every  day ;  this  was  only 
one  of  a  million  cases.  It  had  happened  to 
happen  to  him  rather  than  another  fellow,  con- 
sequently it  was  necessary  for  him  to  pay  some 
attention  to  it.  That  was  all. 

Evelyn  felt  that  he  would  treat  in  much  the 
same  way  the  direct  confession  or  betrayal  of  a 
woman's  love  for  himself.  He  would  talk  it 
over  with  her  simply  and  sympathetically,  as  a 
great  thing  to  her  because  she  felt  it  to  be  so, 
but  of  consequence  to  him  only  because  of  her 
suffering,  and  because  there  might  be  some 
slight  sense  of  unfairness  on  his  own  side.  He 
would  never  act  as  if  he  thought  there  was 
anything  to  be  ashamed  of  either  in  the  feel- 
ing or  in  the  betrayal  of  it.  He  would  leave 
her  her  undiminished  self-respect,  with  the 


132       The  Things  that  Count 

consciousness  that  she  had  not  lowered  herself 
in  his  eyes.  He  would  treat  it  as  an  accident 
that  it  had  been  she  that  had  cared,  and  not  he 
or  both  of  them, — an  accident  that  might  have 
befallen  any  man  or  any  woman,  not  a  dis- 
grace. When  he  left  her,  he  would  not  leave 
a  woman  scorned,  but  a  woman  who  would 
honour  him  and  believe  in  him,  who  would  feel 
a  loyal  friendship  for  him  all  her  life,  long  after 
the  glory  had  gone  from  him,  and  settled,  per- 
haps, on  another's  head.  The  thought  of  him 
would  never  afterwards  be  one  to  jump  away 
from  with  inarticulate  ejaculations  of  pain ;  it 
would  always  be  a  pleasant  companion  for  a 
sentimental  hour. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AN   IDYT 

MRS.  PERKINS  passed  a  painful  night 
with  her  tooth.  Dolly  was  up  with  her 
a  large  part  of  it,  lavishing  her  sympathy  and 
her  kindly,  if  unavailing,  suggestions  in  her 
usual  generous  fashion.  One  had  only  to  be 
in  trouble  to  have  all  his  sins  of  omission  and 
commission  forgotten  by  her  big,  kind  heart. 
In  the  morning  she  persuaded  Mrs.  Perkins  to 
go  over  to  Haverly  to  the  dentist  there,  and 
got  ready  herself  to  go  with  her.  It  was  a 
twenty-mile  drive,  but  they  expected  to  get 
back  that  evening.  In  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon, however,  Evelyn  received  a  telegram 
from  Dolly  saying  that  they  would  have  to 
stay  over  Sunday,  as  the  dentist  wanted  to 
treat  the  tooth  before  he  did  anything  to  it. 

She   had    a  pleasant   tete-a-tete  dinner  with 
Cyril,  and  a  musical  evening  afterwards.     She 
had  had  no  idea  that  he  was  so  possible  as  a 
133 


134       The  Things  that  Count 

companion.  Every  trace  of  his  old  enmity 
had  gone,  and  she  saw  that  it  was  as  Palmer  had 
said :  he  was  all  ready  to  worship  at  her  shrine 
at  the  slightest  encouragement.  She  honestly 
tried  her  best  to  be  matter-of-fact  and  imper- 
sonal, to  be  as  little  attractive  as  she  could  be, 
being  aware  that  any  such  development  would 
bring  down  Palmer's  wrath  upon  her  head.  The 
music  was  a  fortunate  resource.  When  they 
said  good-night,  he  made  a  half-apology  for 
his  former  attitude  to  her,  but  she  passed  it 
over  lightly.  She  would  not  have  a  scene. 

The  next  morning,  which  was  Sunday, 
Evelyn  was  down  much  earlier  than  usual 
under  the  influence  of  a  hope  that  she  could 
not  stifle.  It  was  a  heavenly  day,  soft  and 
warm,  with  a  delicious  little  breeze  stealing  in 
from  the  bay.  She  went  down  to  the  lily 
pond,  knowing  that  any  one  would,  sooner  or 
later,  be  sure  to  look  for  her  there,  and  lay 
down  on  the  grass  under  a  birch  tree  with  her 
arms  under  her  head  for  a  pillow.  The  ground 
sloped  away  so  that  she  could  look  at  the  lilies 
resting  on  their  bronze  pads  on  the  surface  of 
the  water.  It  was  a  new  development  for  her 
to  be  contented  to  do  nothing.  Her  own 
society,  with  no  occupation  for  her  hands,  was 
something  she  usually  avoided.  It  was  only 
external  quiet  this  morning,  however.  She 


An  Idyl  135 

could  not  keep  her  eyes  away  from  the  path 
that  led  to  the  Andrews's  farm,  and  alterna- 
tions of  hope  and  fear  kept  her  heart  fluttering 
and  sent  cold  shivers  up  and  down  her  back  in 
a  way  that  frightened  her.  It  was  so  long 
since  anything  had  agitated  her.  She  had 
time  to  get  very  anxious  before  a  voice  behind 
her  said  quietly: 

'  Here  you  are." 

"  Where  did  you  drop  from  ?  "  she  asked,  as 
composedly  as  if  there  were  no  tumult  going 
on  inside  her. 

I  came  around  through  the  woods  to  the 
back.  I  knew  Cyril  would  be  in  his  workshop, 
and  I  wanted  to  speak  to  him.  Joseph  told 
me  that  he  thought  you  were  down  here." 

"  I  love  it  here.  Do  you  see  that  lemon- 
coloured  lily  with  the  deep  yellow  stamens  ? 
That  is  new  since  yesterday.  I  want  Mr.  Van 
Horn  to  see  it." 

"  I  took  dinner  there  last  night." 

"  So  Cyril  told  me.  He  said  he  wanted  you 
to  stay  to  dinner  here." 

:<  How  did  you  and  he  get  along  together  ?  " 

"  Finely.  I  played  for  him  all  the  evening. 
He  has  quite  forgiven  me  my  infirmities." 

"  Poor  Cyril!  " 

1  You  have,  you  shall  have,  no  occasion  to 
call  him  that!  " 


i36       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  '11  say  '  poor  Richard  '  then.  Did  you 
know  my  name  was  Richard  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?" 

"  Fairly  well." 

"  Don't  you  like  .it  better  than  that  odious 
Mr.  Palmer?" 

"  I  do  for  to-day,  for  every  day  that  you  are 
as  nice  to  me  as  you  are  to-day.  You  are  very 
nice  to  me  this  morning,  Richard." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  am  going  to  do  with 
you  ? " 

"  No." 

"  I  am  going  to  take  you  over  to  Bay  Island. 
Joseph  is  putting  up  some  lunch  for  us  now." 
'  How  perfectly  delicious !  It  was  the  thing 
of  all  others  that  I  wanted  to  do  this  glorious 
morning.  But  what  will  Cyril  say  to  our  de- 
serting him  ?  " 

"  I  went  to  him,  and  said,  without  any  pre- 
liminaries: '  Cyril,  I  want  to  ask  Miss  Smith 
to  go  to  Bay  Island  with  me/  '  All  right,'  he 
said.  '  Tell  Joseph  to  put  up  some  lunch  for 
you.'  And  then  he  added  that  I  might  as  well 
tell  him  lunch  for  three,  and  that  he,  Cyril, 
would  get  some  lunch  in  the  village,  so  that 
there  would  be  no  occasion  for  any  one  to  find 
out  that  he  did  n't  go  too." 

"  What  did  you  say  to  that  ?  "  asked  Evelyn, 


An  Idyl  137 

not  trying  to  keep  the  happiness  out  of  her 
voice. 

"  I  said,  '  Thanks,  old  fellow.  I  '11  see  you 
when  we  get  back.'  ' 

"  What  do  you  suppose  he  thinks  ?"  she 
asked. 

"  I  don't  know,  and  don't  care.     Do  you  ?" 

"  Not  a  scrap." 

"  Come,  get  up,  you  lazy  young  person,"  he 
went  on.  '  You  can't  spend  the  whole  morn- 
ing dreaming  over  lily  ponds.  Do  you  realise 
that  this  is  going  to  be  a  day  which  we  will 
never  forget  ?  Go  and  get  your  hat,  and  some- 
thing to  put  around  you,  and  then  we  will 
start."  He  took  both  her  hands  to  help  her 
to  her  feet,  but  she  lay  there  for  a  minute 
looking  up  at  his  fresh-coloured,  spick-and- 
span  self. 

*  Your  eyes  are  a  real  forget-me-not  blue. 
You  are  very  good  to* look  at  this  morning, 
Richard,"  she  said  presently. 

"  So  are  you,"  he  answered,  and  then  they 
both  laughed,  and  she  let  him  pull  her  to  her 
feet. 

In  ten  minutes  they  were  walking  along  the 
beach  to  the  pier,  Palmer  with  a  huge  lunch- 
basket  on  his  arm.  He  had  protested  at  the 
size,  but  Joseph  had  declared  that  there 
was  n't  so  much  in  it  as  there  seemed  to  be. 


138       The  Things  that  Count 

They  said  very  little  until  they  had  embarked, 
with  the  aid  of  two  old  sailors  who  were  hang- 
ing around  the  pier,  and  had  started  on  a  long 
tack  across  the  bay.  The  wind  was  light  but 
steady,  and  freshened  as  they  drew  out  from 
the  shore.  When  the  boat  was  well  under 
way,  Richard  came  and  sat  down  beside 
Evelyn,  who  was  steering. 

'  Evelyn,"  he  began  seriously. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered. 

"  I  want  this  to  be  a  happy  day  for  us  both. 
I  want  to  forget  that  we  are  going  to  separate 
so  soon,  that  our  futures  will  probably  be  as 
distinct  as  two  stars.  I  want  to  forget  that  we 
are  not  always  in  sympathy,  that  we  do  not 
agree  about  a  great  many  things — just  for  to- 
day. Are  you  willing  ?  " 

"  I  am." 

"  You  do  not  need  to  be  told  what  I  feel  for 
you,"  he  continued;  "  and  I  know  that  you 
like  me, — more  than  like  me,  perhaps  ?  "  Eve- 
lyn nodded. 

"  I  know,  too,  we  both  know,  that  it  is  crazy 
for  us  to  indulge  these  feelings,  considering 
your  ideas  and  requirements;  that  for  you  and 
me  together  there  is  no  future  possible.  You 
would  demand  more  of  me  than  I  could  give 
you  in  one  sense,  and  I  of  you  in  another. 
This  is  no  rational,  lasting  feeling,  born  of 


An  Idyl  139 

mutual  knowledge  and  respect;  it  is  not  the 
gradual  intensifying  and  uplifting  of  friendship, 
which  is  the  only  safe  foundation ;  it  is  simply 
a  caprice,  a  strong  one  on  my  side;  but  I  am, 
I  shall  be^stronger  than  it.  Now  to-day  is  to 
be  my  last  piece  of  self-indulgence.  I  know 
that  it  cannot  hurt  you,  and  if  it  makes  the 
future  harder  for  me, — well,  I  can  stand  it.  I 
am  doing  this  thing  deliberately.  What  do 
you  think  of  it  ?  Is  there  anything  about  it 
that  does  n't  seem  perfectly  fair  to  you  ?  Tell 
me  honestly."  A  cloud  had  drifted  over  the 
sun,  and  the  sunshine  had  also  gone  from 
Evelyn's  heart. 

"  How  terribly  cold-blooded  you  are!  "  she 
exclaimed. 

"  I  cold-blooded  ?  How  little  you  know  me 
if  you  think  that.  Well,  shall  we  give  up  our 
day  together?  Shall  we  go  back?"  The 
sun  had  come  out  again  and  was  sparkling  on 
the  top  of  the  heaving  green  translucent 
waves.  The  gulls  were  flying  overhead,  and 
the  breeze  was  soft  on  Evelyn's  cheek. 

;<  No,"  she  said  decidedly. 

'  You  surely  do  not  think  that  there  is  any- 
thing else  possible  for  us  after  to-day  than  to 
say  good-by  ?  "  he  continued.  "  It  is  n't  as 
if  we  had  anything,  anything  of  the  things 
that  matter  in  common.  Our  ideals  are  too 


The  Things  that  Count 


hopelessly  different.  And  we  have  come  to  a 
point  where  mere  friendship  is  not  possible. 
It  never  has  been  with  me.  It  has  got  to  be 
all  or  nothing.  I  do  not  see  that  we  can  do 
anything  else,  do  you  ?  " 

No,"  she  answered  again,  as  decidedly  as 
if  she  really  meant  it. 

He  shifted  the  sail  and  put  the  boat  about. 
The  sail  drooped  for  a  moment,  then  the  wind 
filled  it  out,  and  they  started  on  their  south- 
easterly course. 

"Come,"  he  began,  when  he  had  seated  him- 
self beside  her  again.  "  We  must  n't  be  pen- 
sive and  spoil  our  day.  If  I  have  got  to  pay 
for  it  afterwards,  I  want  my  money's  worth 
now.  It  seemed  only  fair  to  put  the  case 
honestly  before  you.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have 
done  it  before  we  started,  but  I  did  n't  take  it 
so  seriously  beforehand  as  we  seem  to  be 
doing  now." 

Why  did  you  think  it  necessary  at  all  ? 
To  guard  my  young  feelings  ?  " 

Palmer  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Are  you  trying  to  make  me  angry  ?  "  he 
asked.  '  Well,  you  won't  succeed  to-day. 
Besides,  I  know  that  you  don't  really  think 
that.  My  dear  girl,  I  am  a  strong  man  ;  I 
think  stronger  than  most;  yet  if  you  came  to 
me  with  those  young  feelings  fully  aflame, 


An  Idyl  I41 

how  much  do  you  think  my  boasted  strength 
would  amount  to  ?  " 

"  And  yet  you  believe  that  you  would  regret 
it  for  the  rest  of  your  life." 

1 '  Undoubtedly,  we  both  should, ' '  he  replied  ; 
'  but  although  I  know  that,  I  should  n't  even 
struggle.  I  suppose  we  ought  to  be  thankful 
that  your  young  feelings  are  so  well  regulated  ; 
but,  do  you  know,  in  spite  of  my  better  judg- 
ment and  everything,  I  am  profoundly  un- 
happy because  of  it." 

This  speech  brought  the  sunshine  back.  It 
was  undoubtedly  perverted ;  but  she  much  pre- 
ferred what  he  gave  her  to  the  respect  and 
admiration  which  he  gave  Dolly,  for  instance. 
Her  spirits  rose  again. 

"Is  n't  this  delicious?"  she  exclaimed 
rapturously.  "A  whole  day  before  us!  Don't 
let  's  think  of  the  future.  To-day  is  enough." 

It  was  one  o'clock  before  a  final  tack 
brought  them  to  the  seaward  side  of  Bay 
Island. 

4  To  think  that  I  should  really  have  got  here 
at  last !  "  Richard  exclaimed,  as  he  beached  the 
boat  on  the  shingle.  Then  he  added  :  "  I  sup- 
pose it  is  my  duty  to  pull  the  boat  well  up  out 
of  the  way  of  the  tricks  of  the  tide ;  but  I  con- 
fess that  I  should  n't  mind  it  a  bit  if  she  floated 
away  and  left  us  stranded  here.  The  nights 


The  Things  that  Count 


are  warm  now,  and  we  have  apparently  pro- 
visions enough  for  a  week." 

'  The  wind  seems  to  be  dying  down.  Won't 
that  answer  the  purpose  equally  well  ?  "  asked 
Evelyn. 

'  Unfortunately,  there  happens  to  be  a  pair 
of  oars  in  the  boat,  and  it  would  be  my  painful 
duty  to  row  you  home.", 

'  Well,  we  have  several  hours  before  us  any- 
way. What  shall  we  do  first  ?  "  asked  Evelyn. 

"  Can  you  ask  ?     Lunch,  of  course." 

He  took  the  basket  and  a  couple  of  cushions 
out  of  the  boat,  which  he  had  securely  fastened 
to  a  peaked  rock  above  high-water  mark,  and 
they  started  to  climb  the  bluff  which  encircled 
the  shore  of  the  island. 

"  This  is  certainly  a  right  little,  tight  little 
island,"  said  Richard,  when  they  had  reached 
the  top  and  had  stopped  to  take  breath.  The 
entire  island,  which  was  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  in  diameter,  was  covered  with  thick  pine 
woods.  A  soft  mat  of  brown  needles  lay  on 
the  ground,  and  through  this  grew  tall  brakes 
and  long  trailing  green  vines.  The  gentle 
splash  of  the  waves  on  the  shore  mingled  de- 
liciously  with  the  crooning  of  the  wind  in  the 
tree  tops. 

'  Is  n't  this  idyllic!"  exclaimed  Evelyn. 
"  There  is  no  defiling  presence  of  man 


An  Idyl  143 

anywhere.  I  should  expect  to  find  cans  and 
bottles.  It  is  real  virgin  forest.  We  could 
pretend  that  we  had  discovered  it." 

'  We  will,"  said  Richard.  "  But  first,  we 
must  accidentally  discover  the  spring  old  Tom 
told  us  about,  and  put  our  bottles  in  it.  I  '11 
take  a  look  around  in  search  of  water."  He 
put  his  load  down,  and  started  off  on  a  tour  of 
investigation,  while  Evelyn  dropped  down  on 
the  ground,  too  lazily  content  to  move.  He 
came  back  presently,  announcing  that  he  had 
found  it. 

"  And  what  do  you  think  I  found  by  it  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

"  I  can't  imagine." 

"  A  sardine  can  and  two  beer  bottles." 
"  You  did  n't  leave  them  there  ?  " 
"  Oh,  no;  I  disposed  of  them  so  that  they 
should  n't  offend  your  ladyship.  Remember 
that  we  have  lunch  for  three  to  eat,"  he  went 
on  when  they  were  seated  by  the  spring,  which 
came  bubbling  out  of  a  rocky  hole  fringed  with 
ferns,  and  dropped  into  a  little  natural  basin. 
Out  of  this  it  trickled  in  a  small  subdued  stream 
a  hundred  yards  or  so,  where  it  fell  over  the 
cliff  in  a  minature  waterfall,  and  sank  in  the 
beach  below. 

'  I  can  eat  for  one  and  a  half,"  said  Evelyn, 
beginning  to  unpack  the  basket.  "  What  a 


144       The  Things  that  Count 

nice  lunch,  and  how  nicely  put  up!"  she 
exclaimed,  as  she  uncovered  its  contents. 
"  Chicken  salad,  with  the  dressing  separate  in 
a  bottle,  and  cold  filet,  and  dear  little  birds, 
and  fresh  brown  bread  and  butter,  and  Swiss 
cheese,  and  little  frosted  cakes,  and  a  glass 
jar  of  ripe  red  strawberries,  and  a  bottle  of 
cream." 

"  And  two  bottles  of  beer  in  the  spring," 
added  Richard.  "  My,  but  it  looks  good!  " 

'  There  is  n't  so  much  left  as  one  would  ex- 
pect," he  remarked  when  they  had  eaten  all 
that  they  could,  and  Evelyn  was  packing  the 
remains  in  the  basket,  to  be  given  to  old  Tom 
on  their  return. 

"  Come,  let  's  explore,"  she  suggested,  after 
she  had  washed  her  hands  at  the  spring. 

"  A  little  exercise  would  n't  be  a  bad  thing," 
he  replied. 

They  made  the  circuit  of  the  island,  coming 
back  to  a  knoll  near  the  place  where  they  had 
eaten  their  lunch,  from  which  they  had  a  view, 
through  the  trees,  of  the  ocean  stretching  away 
to  the  eastward.  Little  flicks  of  sunshine  came 
down  through  the  branches,  but  the  trunk  of  a 
large  pine  kept  it  off  them.  Richard  got  the 
cushions,  and  put  them  behind  Evelyn  as  she  sat 
with  her  back  to  the  tree.  He  himself  lay  down 
and  put  his  head  on  a  fold  of  her  linen  skirt. 


An  Idyl  145 

"  This  is  not  taking  advantage,  is  it  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"I  don't  care  if  it  is,"  she  answered,  smiling. 
They  sat  in  silence  for  some  time.  Evelyn 
was  tranquilly  happy,  absorbed  in  the  beauty 
around  her  and  in  her  companion.  She  had  so 
much  to  enjoy  that  to  talk  seemed  almost 
superfluous. 

"  I  am  so  hampered,"  Richard  said  at 
length.  "  I  thought  that  I  could  indulge  my- 
self for  one  day,  one  little  day,  and  be  happy, 
but  my  accursed  Puritan  nature  is  too  much 
for  me.  I  am  not  happy.  I  have  n't  really 
been  happy  one  minute  to-day,  except  perhaps 
when  we  were  at  lunch,"  he  added,  with  a 
laugh.  '  There  has  been  a  sort  of  surface  con- 
tent ;  but  deep  down  in  me  there  has  been 
unrest  and  dissatisfaction.  I  can't  live  by  the 
day  or  the  hour ;  I  have  n't  enough  of  the  South 
in  me  for  that." 

"  I  have  been  thoroughly  happy,  and  I 
thought  you  were  too,"  Evelyn  replied.  '  I 
am  sorry,  Richard."  She  laid  her  hand 
lightly  on  his  hair  for  a  moment. 

"  I  am  not  satisfied  to  have  you  so  near  me, 
and  yet  to  have  no  hold  over  you,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  And  when  you  speak  to  me  in  the 
tone  you  used  just  now,  it  makes  me  sick  to 
think  that  we  shall  never  be  anything  more 


146       The  Things  that  Count 

than  this  to  each  other,  and  this  only  for  the 
day  that  is  going  so  fast."  Evelyn  did  not 
reply,  and  they  sat  there  in  silence,  her  hand 
stroking  the  hair  back  from  his  forehead. 
Presently  he  broke  the  silence. 

Evelyn,  tell  me,  were  you  ever  very  much 
in  love  ?  Did  you  ever  care  for  a  man  more 
than  you  care  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  did  once." 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  answered  unexpectedly. 
"  I  should  hate  to  think  that  you  could  n't 
care  any  more.  Tell  me  about  it.  What  was 
his  name,  so  that  I  can  hate  him  if  I  ever  meet 
him?" 

"  Do  you  really  want  to  know  ?  " 
I  most  certainly  do." 

4  Then  I  will  tell  you.  His  name  was  Arthur 
Hunt."  Richard  sat  half-way  up  in  his  sur- 
prise. 

14  I  don't  understand,"  he  said,  in  a  puzzled 
tone. 

14  Did  that  solution  of  the  problem  never 
occur  to  you  ?  " 

It  never  did.  Are  you  in  earnest  ?  Then 
why —  "  He  paused,  evidently  trying  to  put 
the  different  parts  of  the  story  together. 

Why  did  I  throw  him  over  and  dance  the 
cotillion  with  Mr.  Bleecker  ?  No,  it  was  not 
ambition.  It  was  simply  that  I  did  not  dare 


An  Idyl  14? 

trust  myself  to  dance  with  him  that  night,  for 
I  was  as  much  convinced  that  it  would  be 
suicide  to  marry  him  as  you  are  that  it  would 
be  to  marry  me."  Her  voice  faltered  a  little 
as  she  uttered  the  last  few  words.  It  was  the 
first  time  that  the  definite  word  "  marry  "  had 
been  used  by  either  of  them. 

"  And  you  really  cared  ?  You  were  not  de- 
ceiving him  about  that  before  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  attracted  to  him  the  first  time  I  met 
him,  and  I  began  to  care  almost  immediately. 
I  had  never  been  in  love  before,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  and  it  was  some  little  time  before 
I  realised  the  way  things  were  going.  I  simply 
could  not  marry  a  poor  man.  I  had  just  seen 
it  tried  by  a  friend  of  mine,  a  girl  who  cared  less 
for  the  pomps  and  vanities  than  I  did,  and  be- 
fore she  had  been  married  a  year  she  was  re- 
penting it  heartily.  At  that  time  there  was  no 
happiness  possible  for  me  that  was  n't  gilded. 
Things,  material  possessions,  were  of  such 
tremendous  consequence  to  me.  They  had 
been  so  all  my  life.  I  was  poor,  desperately 
poor,  before  my  aunt  adopted  me,  and  I  never 
could  forget  the  unmitigated  wretchedness  of 
our  lives.  I  see  now  that  it  need  not  have 
been  so  if  my  mother  had  been  a  different  kind 
of  woman  ;  but  I  did  n't  then.  I  did  n't  realise 
that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  nice,  clean, 


148       The  Things  that  Count 

unpretentious,  sweet-smelling,  self-respecting 
poverty;  and  even  if  I  had  realised  it,  it  would 
n't  have  satisfied  me  then,  for  I  was  terribly  am- 
bitious socially  in  those  days.  I  felt  afterwards 
that  I  had  made  a  mistake — about  Arthur,  I 
mean;  but  I  honestly  made  the  best  decision 
I  could  at  the  time.  And  I  felt  that  it  was  the 
truest  kindness  to  him  to  be  cruel,  to  do  the 
thing  up  with  one  blow.  I  had  not  meant  to 
mislead  him,  but  it  had  gone  so  far  before  I 
knew  it.  It  was  one  of  those  sudden  affairs. 
And  it  was  n't  until  some  time  afterwards  that 
I  realised  how  much  encouragement  I  had 
given  to  him.  You  see,  nothing  had  ever 
been  actually  said.  I  did  so  long  to  tell  him 
all  about  it  at  that  dinner  last  winter,"  she 
continued;  "  but,  you  see,  it  would  have  been 
so  easy  for  him  to  misunderstand  my  motives. 
If  I  had  only  known  at  the  time  that  he  was  to 
be  married,  I  might  have  done  so.  I  suppose 
he  thought  that  I  tried  to  capture  Stuart 
Bleecker  and  slipped  up  on  it.  That  is  not 
true.  I  never  tried  for  him.  I  think  I  could 
have  had  him  if  I  had  done  so,  though  you 
never  can  tell.  The  stupidest  rich  men  learn 
to  put  a  high  valuation  on  themselves." 

'  You  have  intended  marrying  for  money ; 
you  do  intend  it  now,  do  you  not  ?  "  Richard 
asked  in  a  low  voice. 


An  Idyl  149 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  about  now,  but  T  cer- 
tainly did  intend  it.  The  trouble  was,  how- 
ever, that  I  could  never  keep  myself  up  to  my 
intentions.  Just  as  soon  as  there  came  any 
approach  to  love-making,  I  simply  could  not 
stand  it.  I  inevitably  betrayed  my  real  feel- 
ings, and  the  whole  thing  fell  through.  This 
has  happened  several  times.  I  have  never 
cared  for  more  than  an  evening  for  any  man 
but  Arthur." 

"  And  you  say  that  you  cared  for  him  much 
more  than  you  do  for  me  ?  " 

'  Yes,  much  more.  I  will  be  frank  with 
you,  Richard.  I  am  fond  of  you,  very  fond 
in  a  way ;  but  I  am  not  in  love  with  y.ou.  Your 
attitude  towards  me  chills  me,  keeps  down  my 
temperature.  I  like  you,  and  admire  you  more 
than  any  man  I  have  ever  known  (there  is  more 
to  you  than  to  Arthur) ;  but  I  do  not  love  you. 
I  think  that  you  could  make  me  if  you  wanted 
to ;  that  is,  if  you  loved  me  without  reserva- 
tions ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  shall  get  to  it  by 
myself.  I  am  too  hardened ;  the  world  has 
been  too  much  with  me.  I  should  not  want 
to  marry  you,  if  you  wanted  me  to  —  at  least, 
I  think  not.  I  might  marry  a  poor  man  now 
if  I  were  in  love  with  him,  but  it  would  never 
be  a  man  who  loved  me  in  spite  of  his  better 
judgment." 


150       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  thought  you  cared  more  than  this," 
Richard  protested  sadly,  burying  his  face  in 
her  dress. 

"  I  do  care.  I  am  not  in  love  with  you,  but 
I  care  for  you  more  than  for  anybody  on  earth. 
I  have  everything  but  the  divine  spark.  I  am 
so  contented  to  be  with  you.  I  like  everything 
about  you,  all  your  little  ways.  I  like  the  way 
you  take  off  your  hat,  and  the  way  you  light  a 
cigar,  and  —  oh,  I  could  n't  begin  to  mention 
them ;  I  like  them  all  so  much.  And  you  are 
so  pleasing  to  me  personally.  I  like  to  have 
you  touch  me,  and  if  I  thought  it  was  a  fair 
thing  to  do,  it  would  give  me  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure  this  very  minute  to  take  your  head  in 
my  arms  and  kiss  you." 

"  Oh,  Evelyn,"  he  murmured,  moving  his 
head  up  closer  until  it  rested  against  her; 
"  can't  you  learn  to  love  me  ?  How  can  I  let 
you  go  ? " 

'  You  think  that  now  because  I  am  showing 
you  a  very  nice  side  of  myself  this  afternoon, 
the  nicest,  perhaps  (except  one  or  two),  which  I 
have.  You  forget  that  I  am  the  same  girl  that 
I  was  yesterday  and  will  be  to-morrow." 

'  The  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever,* 
I  don't  believe  it.  Evelyn,  dear  Evelyn,"  he 
broke  off,  sitting  up  and  looking  straight  at  her, 
"  when  you  have  such  a  fine  side,  how  can  you 


An  Idyl  151 

let  the  other  get  uppermost  ?  There  are  such 
splendid  things  about  you.  You  are  so  honest 
about  yourself,  and  so  little  vain,  with  all  that 
you  have  to  make  you  so.  And  you  are  just 
and  fair,  large-minded  in  one  way,  or  you 
would  never  have  put  up  with  my  attitude, 
my  detestable,  cold-blooded  (you  were  right 
to  call  it  so)  attitude  towards  you.  You  bear 
no  resentment,  you  treat  me  like  an  angel. 
You  are  wonderfully  sweet-tempered." 

;<  Now  for  the  but,"  she  put  in  with  a  smile 
as  he  paused. 

"  I  could  n't  say  it  if  I  did  n't  have  your 
welfare  so  terribly  at  heart,"  he  went  on  after 
a  little  pause.  ;<  I  have  simply  got  to  make 
you  wake  up  to  what  your  life  really  is.  If  I 
hurt  you,  remember  why  I  say  it.  It  kills  me 
that  you  are  so  much  less  of  a  woman  than 
you  ought  to  be."  He  reached  over  and  took 
her  hand  in  his,  while  he  continued,  with  the 
same  air  of  determination,  like  a  man  who  has 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  through  with  a  dis- 
agreeable duty:  "  This  is  so  that  you  can't 
forget  that  I  am  in  sympathy  with  you  even  if 
I  criticise  you,  that  I  am  on  your  side.  Evelyn 
dear,  can't  you  be  truer  to  yourself  ?  How 
can  you  live  in  this  woman's  house,  eat  her 
salt,  and  pretend  to  be  her  friend,  simply  be- 
cause you  like  purple  and  fine  linen  ?  How 


i52       The  Things  that  Count 

can  you  be  so  hypocritical  ?  And  it  is  not 
with  her  alone.  I  notice  it  with  all  the  guests 
who  come  to  the  house.  You  are  so  politic 
(how  you  have  taught  yourself  to  be,  when 
honesty  comes  so  naturally  to  you,  I  can't  im- 
agine), and  you  discover  everyone's  weak  point, 
and  flatter  him  into  liking  you.  You  do  it 
artistically,  I  admit.  There  is  no  slapping  it 
on  with  a  trowel.  I  could  forgive  you  for  it 
more  easily  if  it  was  because  you  had  a  craving 
for  admiration,  as  I  once  thought  you  had; 
but  it  is  simply  that  you  think  these  people 
may  be  of  use  to  you  some  day." 

"  I  really  liked  Mr.  Van  Horn,"  Evelyn  pro- 
tested, evidently  not  at  all  offended  at  this 
plain  speaking.  "  I  loved  him  on  the  spot, 
and  honestly  forgot  that  it  might  be  to  my 
advantage  to  make  him  like  me.  Besides,  it 
would  n't  be  of  much  use, —  the  man  of  the 
house.  If  I  had  had  interested  motives,  I 
should  have  attempted  Mrs.  Van  Horn.  Do 
you  believe  me  ?  " 

"  I  always  believe  you  when  you  talk  to  me. 
How  beautifully  you  are  taking  this!  Here,  I 
want  your  other  hand  too.  I  want  to  feel  that 
you  are  not  angry  with  me.  Do  you  remem- 
ber that  night  when  I  warmed  them  for  you  ? 
I  knew  that  you  must  care  a  little  for  me  that 
night,  or  you  would  never  have  let  me  come  so 


An  Idyl  153 

near.     I  had  to  be  rough  to  you.     I  could  n't 
help  it." 

"  How  is  it  that  you  don't  think  that  it  is 
one  of  my  little  ways  with  men  ?  It  would  n't 
be  inconsistent  with  all  the  rest." 

"  I  tried  to,  but  I  could  n't.  You  don't  let 
men  in  general  take  liberties  with  you,  do  you, 
Evelyn  ?  " 

"  Not  often.  I  have  done  it  once  or  twice 
in  my  life,  and  have  been  heartily  sorry  for  it 
afterwards.  It  was  generally  when  I  was  try- 
ing to  screw  myself  up  to  the  necessary  pitch 
— and  the  man,  too.  There  was  one  cold- 
blooded creature  (not  as  you  are,  Richard,  it  is 
not  really  your  blood  but  your  head  that  is 
cold),  and  he  did  n't  come  to  the  point  quickly 
enough.  Oh,  don't  let  's  talk  about  it.  It  's 
so  ugly.  It  makes  me  feel  so  cheap.  I  'm  so 
ashamed.  Let  me  have  my  hands  to  hide  my 
face." 

'  There  is  always  this  fight  between  your 
two  natures,  and  always  will  be  until  you  make 
up  your  mind  to  let  the  higher  win,"  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  pause.  He  had  released  her 
hands,  and  she  had  moved  a  little  away  from 
him.  It  is  hard  to  say  how  it  will  turn  out. 
I  sometimes  think  that  you  will  have  a  great 
awakening  some  day,  that  you  will  undergo  a 
baptism  as  of  fire,  and  come  out  cleansed,  to  be 


154       The  Things  that  Count 

the  noble  woman  you  have  it  in  you  to  be.  I 
would  to  God  I  had  the  power  to  work  this 
miracle ;  but  I  am  so  powerless  with  you.  I 
care  so  much  that  you  are  in  the  superior  posi- 
tion, even  when  I  scold  you.  I  should  like  to 
see  you  subjugated,  Evelyn,  not  by  brute 
force,  but  by  the  strength  of  your  feeling  for 
someone.  I  don't  mean,  of  course,  that  I 
should  really  like  it,"  he  added,  after  a  pause. 
"  It  would  be  one  of  the  bitterest  moments  in 
my  life;  but  I  should  have  the  strength  to 
bear  it  if  it  meant  your  salvation." 

"  Go  on  with  my  scolding.  It  does  me 
good,"  Evelyn  remarked  presently,  breaking 
the  silence  that  followed  his  words,  which  had 
touched  her  deeply. 

"  The  worst  thing  of  all  is  that  you  have 
lowered  your  ideals  so  much,"  he  continued, 
after  a  moment's  reflection.  '  You  disbelieve 
in  everybody  and  everything.  You  have  such 
a  lot  of  cheap  cynicism  on  hand,  ready  to  use 
when  there  is  no  particular  reason  for  your 
wishing  to  appear  all  benevolence.  You  are 
the  most  profoundly  disillusioned  person  that 
I  know.  You  actually  talk  sometimes  as  if 
you  did  n't  believe  that  there  are  such  things 
as  sincerity,  disinterested  affection;  as  if  truth 
were  simply  an  abstraction  with  no  reality  be- 
hind it.  You  class  poverty  with  disgrace,  and 


An  Idyl  155 

I  believe  you  think  it  of  more  importance  to 
dress  well  than  to  live  well." 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  hideous  some  of  my 
life  has  been,"  she  protested  in  a  low  voice, 
picking  up  handfuls  of  pine  needles  and  scatter- 
ing them  in  the  air. 

Was  not  some  of  it  your  own  fault  ?  Your 
life  of  late  years  has  been  what  you  chose  to 
make  it,  and  you  chose  food  for  the  body 
rather  than  the  soul.  You  have  let  the  higher 
part  of  you  starve.  You  do  not  even  improve 
your  mind.  You  never  read  anything  but  the 
lightest  of  novels,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Never  nowadays.  It  takes  every  spare 
moment  I  have  to  make  my  clothes." 

'  Yes ;  and  that  is  merely  for  the  day.  You 
are  laying  up  no  store  for  the  future.  You  are 
a  very  charming  woman  now ;  but  do  you  think 
you  will  be  able  to  hold  your  own  when  you 
are  middle-aged  ?  I  never  knew  a  woman  who 
spent  her  youth  simply  in  amusing  herself  who 
was  of  any  particular  consequence  personally 
when  she  was  older.  It  is  a  hard  doctrine  to 
accept, —  that  man  is  made  for  toil;  but  we  all 
have  to  come  to  it,  sooner  or  later.  Theoreti- 
cally, it  seems  foolish  to  spend  our  lives  labour- 
ing for  ends  that  are  of  no  importance  in  the 
scheme  of  the  universe.  Our  greatest  efforts 
are  so  ineffectual ;  why  not  be  lazy  ?  What  is 


156       The  Things  that  Count 

the  use  of  studying  when  we  make  so  little  im- 
pression on  the  immensity  of  our  ignorance  ? 
I  am  always  asking  myself  if  it  is  n't  a  super- 
stition to  think  that  it  is  better  to  work  than 
be  idle,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  it  is 
until  I  look  at  the  people  who  lead  idle  lives. 
It  is  all  very  well  when  they  are  young,  but  if 
they  keep  it  up  they  are  pitiful  when  they  are 
old  —  small-minded,  trivial,  of  no  consequence 
to  anyone.  Unreasonable  as  it  may  seem,  it 
is  a  sad  fact  that  we  have  got  to  improve  our- 
selves if  we  do  not  want  to  deteriorate,  and  to 
work  for  every  tiny  bit  of  happiness  that  comes 
to  us.  Of  course,  there  is  nothing  new  in  what 
I  have  been  saying,"  he  went  on.  '  We  have 
all  heard  it  said  a  million  times;  but  I  do  not 
think  you  can  have  realised  it  for  yourself,  or 
you  would  feel  that  what  you  put  in  your  head 
is  of  more  importance  than  what  you  put  on 
your  back." 

"But  I  never  knew  a  man  who  noticed  a  wom- 
an's clothes  more  than  you  do,"  Evelyn  pro- 
tested. "  I  don't  believe  a  woman  would  be  of 
consequence  to  you,  no  matter  what  she  had  in 
her  head,  if  she  were  dowdy."  Richard  laughed. 

"  I  am  terribly  inconsistent,"  he  said,  add- 
ing: "  But  you  know  what  I  mean.  There  is 
a  midway  course  in  everything.  And  you 
are  n't  angry  with  me,  not  one  bit  ? " 


An  Idyl  157 

"  Not  one  bit.  It  is  a  relief  to  have  you 
put  into  words  the  things  that  I  have  known 
you  were  feeling.  Indefinite  disapproval  is 
so  much  more  uncomfortable  than  definite. 
Let  's  have  the  rest." 

"  There  is  n't  any  rest.  We  have  had 
enough." 

'  There  is  a  lot  more,  and  you  know  it,"  she 
asserted  positively.  "  I  will  help  you  out. 
Do  you  know,  I  sometimes  see  such  hard, 
worldly  lines  in  my  face  when  I  look  in  the  glass 
that  it  frightens  me.  And  I  have  coarsened 
and  cheapened  myself  in  so  many  ways.  I  am 
naturally  refined,  but  I  have  tried  to  adjust  my- 
self to  my  company  until  I  can  say  quite  com- 
mon things  without  a  blush  in  quarters  where 
I  know  such  things  are  acceptable.  There !  I 
think  that  is  the  worst  symptom  of  my  de- 
generation. It  is  so  to  me.  I  can  never 
reconcile  my  taste  to  it." 

"  That  is  n't  the  worst  to  me,  because  with 
you  it  is  just  a  habit  that  could  be  dropped," 
said  Richard.  "  I  don't  believe  it  has  affected 
the  real  you.  I  never  see.  a  sign  of  anything 
that  is  not  ultra-refined.  What  I  mind  most, 
what  makes  me  feel  the  untraversable  distance 
between  us  most  thoroughly,  is  the  importance 
that  you  put  on  things  that  are  absolutely 
without  importance  to  me.  It  seems  as  if, 


158       The  Things  that  Count 

with  your  brains,  you  ought  to  have  got  to  a 
more  intelligent  position.  I  can't  understand 
how  a  woman  as  clever  as  you  are  can  have 
social  aspirations,  how  the  surface  glitter  of 
things  can  blind  you  to  the  stupidity,  the 
empty-headedness,  the  boredom  of  it  all  under- 
neath. How  a  woman  of  sense  can  take  pay- 
ing calls  and  going  to  teas  seriously,  I  can't 
conceive.  Of  course,  I  don't  usually  put  this 
feeling  into  words.  It  looks  too  much  like 
sour  grapes ;  for  if  a  person  runs  down  society, 
people  who  don't  agree  with  him  always  as- 
sume that  it  is  because  he  can't  have  it.  You 
know  that  this  is  not  true  with  me.  I  have 
not  only  no  desire,  but  an  honest  aversion  to 
it.  And  these  aspirations  in  you  make  me  feel 
that  we  are  not  the  same  kind  of  people.  I 
shall  never  change  in  this  respect ;  and  I  could 
not  adjust  my  life  to  suit  that  of  a  woman  with 
these  ideals,  because  I  feel  so  strongly  that  it 
would  be  a  lowering  of  my  standards,  even  a 
falsifying  of  them,  by  giving  a  fictitious  import- 
ance to  things  that  are  of  slight  consequence. 
Of  course,  I  remember  only  too  well  that  you 
don't  want  to  marry  me.  I  am  not  explaining 
to  you  why  I  won't  do  you  the  honour  of 
making  you  my  wife,"  he  continued,  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  and  taking  hers. 

"  How   terribly  modern   we  are!"    Evelyn 


An  Idyl  159 

remarked.  "  Imagine  an  old-fashioned  heroine 
listening  calmly  to  a  man's  telling  her  his 
objections  to  her  from  a  matrimonial  standard. 
Her  pride  would  have  been  up  in  arms  at  the 
first  suggestion  that  she  was  not  an  angel ;  she 
would  have  quarrelled  with  him  violently  and 
have  married  another  man  out  of  pique  in  the 
next  chapter.  She  could  no  more  have  dis- 
cussed such  a  subject  with  a  man,  nor  he  with 
her.  Do  you  know,  I  often  wonder  if  the 
vanity,  the  chip-on-the-shoulder  attitude,  is  not 
dying  out  in  the  relations  of  men  and  women. 
I  had  a  great  deal  of  it  when  I  was  younger, 
but  I  seem  to  have  so  little  now.  Supposing 
I  loved  you,  I  could  tell  you  so  calmly  and 
unblushingly,  and  accept  your  decision  that 
I  would  n't  do,  without  any  very  great  mor- 
tification, whatever  pain  I  might  feel  at  it. 
Am  I  abnormal  ?  I  have  no  feeling  of  of- 
fended pride  because  of  what  you  have  told 
me,  only  a  profound  regret  that  what  you  say 
should  be  true.  I  suppose,  after  all,  it  is  partly 
you,  because  you  are  so  free  from  vanity  or 
complacency  yourself,"  she  added. 

"  And  how  little  else  besides  the  mutual  at- 
traction which  we  call  love  used  to  be  con- 
sidered, or  is  considered  now,  by  most  people," 
said  Richard,  following  his  own  train  of 
thought.  "  Are  we  others  cold-blooded  ?  I 


160       The  Things  that  Count 

think  we  are  a  little ;  but,  after  practising  self- 
control  and  self-denial  all  my  life,  they  have 
got  the  mastery  of  me,  and  I  can  no  more  fling 
them  off  and  follow  my  impulses  than  I  could 
strike  a  man  dead  who  annoyed  me.  If  that 
is  cold-blooded,  I  am  cold-blooded;  but  I 
honestly  don't  think  that  I  feel  less  so  much 
as  that  I  have  stronger  forces  at  command  with 
which  to  fight  my  feelings." 

"  If  you  control  the  expression  of  anger,  the 
feeling  itself  gets  less  in  time,"  she  remarked 
thoughtfully. 

'  Yes;  and  I  suppose  we  do  feel  less  in  a 
way  for  letting  our  minds  get  the  mastery  of 
our  emotions.  I  suppose  it  is  inevitable.  But 
I  can  no  more  understand,  to  speak  generally 
(I  am  not  referring  to  you  and  me),  how  people 
who  think  and  have  used  self-control  all  their 
lives  can  blindly  enter  into  a  life-contract  with 
a  person  solely  on  the  ground  that  they  feel  a 
strong  attraction  for  one  another.  It  is  so 
irrational." 

"  Richard,  you  are  cold-blooded!"  she  de- 
clared. 

"  Don't  tempt  me!  "  he  protested,  sitting  up 
straight  and  looking  at  her  with  eyes  that  were 
not  cold.  '  You  would  n't  like  me  to  show 
you  that  I  am  not  cold-blooded,  would  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  "  she  exclaimed,  retreating  a  little. 


An  Idyl  161 

"I  really  don't  think  that  I  am  cold-blooded," 
he  continued  calmly.  "  I  could  tell  you  a 
thing  or  two  that  would  make  you  change  your 
mind,  but  they  are  things  that  I  have  no  right 
to  tell  you  after  what  I  have  said  to  you  this 
afternoon." 

Evelyn  did  not  answer.  A  silence  fell  be- 
tween them,  which  lasted  some  little  time. 
Finally  she  gathered  herself  together  and  got 
up. 

"  Come,  we  must  go  now,"  she  said. 

"  Not  when  you  speak  like  that  to  me,"  he 
protested. 

"  I  am  not  angry;  I  am  simply  chilled  by  so 
much  common  sense.  I  don't  want  any  pro- 
testations (I  should  dislike  them  exceedingly) ; 
but  I  tell  you  frankly  that  I  don't  in  the  least 
believe  in  the  strength  of  your  feeling  for  me. 
It  is  what  is  vulgarly  called  a  crush.  It  will 
be  gone  before  you  know  it.  I  go  myself  on 
Tuesday,  and  in  about  a  month  you  will  find 
yourself  completely  heart-whole." 

'  You  go  on  Tuesday!  Where  ?"  he  ex- 
claimed in  dismay. 

I  am  going  to  Lenox  first.  I  have  stayed 
here  three  times  as  long  as  I  intended  to,  and 
you  know  that  it  is  important  that  I  keep  up 
my  connection  with  the  gay  world.  If  I  once 
drop  out,  I  am  lost." 


1 62       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  you  were,  then !  "  he  ex- 
claimed fervently,  as  they  walked  toward  the 
spring  where  the  basket  and  their  other  belong- 
ings were. 

"  What  should  I  do  if  I  were  out  of  it  ?" 
she  asked.  "  Go  to  live  in  Jersey  City  with 
my  mother  and  Clara  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  You  ought  to  see  my  home,"  she  said 
bitterly. 

"  Anything  is  better  than  your  present  life," 
he  asserted  positively. 

"  Ah,  that  is  so  easy  to  say,"  she  returned. 

They  embarked  in  silence  and,  after  a  tack 
to  get  clear  of  the  island,  sailed  straight  for  the 
pier.  They  did  not  talk.  They  felt  suddenly 
cold  towards  each  other  and  out  of  sympathy. 
The  glory  had  gone  off  the  day,  figuratively  as 
well  as  literally,  and  the  fog  was  coming  in 
from  the  ocean.  Richard  made  Evelyn  put 
her  coat  on. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked  at  last,  when  they 
were  approaching  the  pier.  The  wind  was  with 
them,  and  they  had  made  a  quick  trip.  ' '  What 
has  happened  to  our  beautiful  day  ?  You  say 
that  you  are  not  angry  with  me,  and  I  am  sure 
that  I  am  not  angry  with  you,  so  what  is 
it?" 

"  We  both  have  a  grievance,"  she  explained. 


An  Idyl  163 

"  You  don't  want  to  marry  me,  and  I  don't 
want  to  marry  you,  but  we  don't  like  it,  either 
of  us,  that  the  other  should  feel  so.  It  is  a 
case,  or  two  cases,  of  wounded  vanity.  You 
see,  I  did  n't  mind  your  telling  me  so — I  was 
so  evidently  the  centre  of  interest  while  we 
were  discussing  it;  but,  now  that  it  has  got 
cold,  I  don't  quite  like  it.  I  take  back  my  re- 
marks on  the  wane  of  pride  in  the  relations  of 
men  and  women.  If  there  are  any  objections 
to  be  made  to  anybody,  I  prefer  to  make  them 
myself."  Richard  laughed. 

I  believe  you  are  right.  I  confess  I  don't 
quite  like  your  being  so  satisfied  that  I  am  not 
at  your  feet."  Evelyn  waited  until  he  had 
brought  the  boat  up  to  the  pier,  where  old 
Tom  was  waiting  to  help  them  land,  before  she 
said : 

'  Well,  you  see,  I  know  very  well  that  I 
could  have  you  there  if  I  really  wanted  you." 
He  gave  her  a  half-amused,  half-indignant 
look,  but  he  had  no  opportunity  to  answer 
until  they  had  left  the  pier  and  were  walking 
along  the  beach. 

'  That  was  an  astonishing  statement  you 
made,"  he  remarked  quietly. 

It  is  true,"  she  replied,  with  conviction. 
"  I  could  make  you  forget  your  cold-blooded 
calculations  if  I  chose." 


1 64       The  Things  that  Count 

"Why  don't  you  do  it  then?"  he  de- 
manded. 

'  What  should  I  do  with  you  afterwards  ?  " 

"  True,"  he  replied.  "  I  forgot  that  con- 
sideration." 

"  You  don't  believe  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  to.  I  know  that  it  is 
true,"  he  answered  soberly. 

He  left  her  at  the  edge  of  the  lawn,  and  went 
off  through  the  pines  to  Cyril's  workshop,  and 
Evelyn  did  not  see  him  again  that  night. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   SCENE   CHANGES 

MRS.  PERKINS  and  Dolly  arrived  home 
by  dinner-time  the  next  day,  very  glad 
to  get  there,  the  hotel  at  Haverly  being  any- 
thing but  comfortable.  On  the  Saturday  before, 
Evelyn  had  told  her  hostess  of  her  intended 
departure,  and  had  received  some  hollow- 
sounding  regrets,  but  no  further  invitation  to 
remain.  Dolly,  who  had  not  heard  the  news 
until  after  they  had  set  out  for  Haverly,  was 
flatteringly  sorry. 

Evelyn  had  only  one  more  talk  with  Richard 
before  she  left.  After  she  was  ready  to  go  on 
Tuesday  morning,  and  had  said  good-by  to  the 
servants,  she  had  half  an  hour  to  spare,  and 
went  down  to  the  lily  pond,  apparently  to  see 
if  a  certain  long-awaited  pink  lily  had  bloomed. 
As  she  had  expected,  Richard  came  and  joined 
her  there. 

I  was  just  wondering  how  I  could  see  you. 
I  had  something  to  say  to  you,"  she  remarked. 
165 


1 66       The  Things  that  Count 

'  How  long  before  you  go? "  he  asked,  in  a 
perfectly  expressionless  voice. 

"  In  about  twenty  minutes."  A  silence  fol- 
lowed, which  she  broke  by  making  some  remark 
about  the  pink  water  lily. 

"How  fond  you  are  of  all  that  sort  of  thing !  " 
he  exclaimed. 

"  I  have  a  real  personal  interest  in  flowers, 
and  I  am  honestly  disappointed  that  the  pink 
lily  is  n't  out.  It  is  part  of  my  love  of  the 
harmonious.  Flowers  are  such  a  comfort. 
There  is  nothing  unsightly  or  jarring  about 
them." 

'  Unless  you  get  an  orange  nasturtium,  a 
crimson  petunia,  and  a  scarlet  geranium  to- 
gether, which  seems  to  be  a  favourite  combina- 
tion of  so  many  gardeners." 

'  Well,  even  that  is  not  so  unpleasant  as  a 
dirty  carpet  or  a  bad  odour." 

"  Oh,  if  you  are  making  comparisons,nothing 
is  so  bad  as  something  else.  But  what  did  you 
want  to  say  to  me  ?  You  have  n't  much  time, 
and  somebody  may  come  along." 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  of  something  that  may 
happen.  It  seemed  fairer.  The  Armitages, 
the  people  I  am  going  to  visit  first,  have  a 
cousin,  a  wealthy  bachelor  of  about  forty-five, 
who  has  been  more  or  less  attracted  to  me  for 
some  time." 


The  Scene  Changes          167 

' 'Well?"  Richard  asked  calmly,  as  she 
paused. 

He  has  n't  told  me  so  in  so  many  words, 
for,  although  my  poverty  is  of  no  particular 
consequence  to  him,  my  lack  of  family  is.  He 
cannot  quite  bring  himself  to  overlook  that." 

'  Why  don't  you  make  him  do  it  then  ? " 
Richard  demanded. 

"  I  often  ask  myself  that.  Perhaps  I  shall 
now.  I  must  make  my  hay  while  the  sun 
shines.  Besides,  he  has  a  great  many  virtues. 
He  is  well-educated,  good-tempered,  generous, 
and  he  has  no  bad  habits  of  any  kind.  He 
does  n't  even  smoke  —  not  that  I  should  mind 
that." 

"  I  should  say  that  it  was  a  thoroughly  good 
thing,"  Richard  remarked  tranquilly. 

"  So  it  is.  Of  course  it  may  come  to  nothing. 
It  is  six  months  since  he  has  seen  me,  and  the 
charm  may  be  broken.  I  just  wanted  to  let 
you  know  that  there  was  a  chance  of  it." 

'  That  was  considerate  of  you,"  he  replied, 
in  so  expressionless  a  tone  that  Evelyn  could 
not  make  up  her  mind  whether  he  was  speak- 
ing ironically  or  in  good  faith.  She  gave  him 
a  searching  look,  but  his  face  was  impassive. 

"  Well,  that  is  all,"  she  continued.  "  I  sup- 
pose we  shall  meet  again  some  day ;  the  world 
is  so  small." 


1 68       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  he  returned. 
Evelyn  was  so  irritated  at  his  impeturbability 
that  she  determined  to  make  him  show  some 
feeling  whether  he  wished  to  or  not. 

"  Our  acquaintance  has  certainly  added  to 
the  interest  of  the  summer  for  me,"  she  con- 
tinued. "  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have 
done  without  some  one  to  keep  my  hand  in  if  it 
had  not  been  for  you,  since  I  did  n't  dare  try 
any  experiments  with  Cyril.  He  is  too  young 
to  conceal  his  feelings,  and  his  mamma  might 
have  objected.  And  then,  of  course,  I  knew 
that  it  could  n't  be  serious  with  you.  You 
have  such  perfect  self-control  that  you  would 
never  let  yourself  have  more  than  a  passing 
fancy  for  a  woman  of  my  kind.  Indeed,  I 
have  felt  a  little  honoured  that  you  should 
have  condescended  to  make  friends  with  me 
under  the  rose,  when  there  was  nobody  to  see 
that  you  had  stooped."  Richard  raised  his 
hand  with  a  commanding  gesture. 

"  Stop!"  he  said  unceremoniously.  "  That 
is  all  rot,  and  you  know  it.  You  are  distorting 
a  worthy  hesitation  to  promise  to  love  and  re- 
spect for  life  a  woman  of  whose  life  and  ideals 
I  thoroughly  disapprove  into  something  un- 
derhand and  cowardly.  I  should  never  have 
acknowledged  this  feeling  of  mine  for  you  if 
you  had  not  forced  my  hand.  You  know  that 


The  Scene  Changes          169 

as  well  as  I  do.  You  grew  tired  of  my  reti- 
cence on  the  subject,  and  provoked  me  into 
showing  it  to  you.  But  I  do  not  mean  to  call 
you  to  account,"  he  added  more  gently. 
"  Come  and  say  good-by  to  me  kindly.  There 
is  no  reason  why  we  should  part  as  enemies,  is 
there  ? " 

A  sudden  impulse  seized  Evelyn.  She  put 
her  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  looked  into  his 
eyes  until  all  the  resentment  left  them,  and  he 
had  forgotten  everything  except  that  she  was 
going  to  leave  him. 

"  It  won't  hurt  me/'  she  said  at  last,  when 
she  was  satisfied  with  his  expression.  '  There 
is  no  bloom  left  on  me  to  rub  off."  He  frowned 
at  her  words,  but,  all  the  same,  he  took  her  in 
his  arms  and  kissed  her  passionately  several 
times.  A  moment  later  she  raised  her  head 
from  his  breast  and,  looking  over  his  shoulder, 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Dolly's  back  disappearing 
behind  a  clump  of  trees  across  the  pond.  She 
had  evidently  seen  and  retreated.  At  that 
moment  Cyril's  voice  was  heard  calling  her. 
They  separated  instantly  without  a  word,  and 
walked  out  from  behind  the  little  thicket  of 
birch  to  meet  him  as  he  came  across  the  lawn 
from  the  house. 

'  We  were  taking  a  last  look  at  the  lily 
pond,"  Evelyn  said  calmly. 


1 70       The  Things  that  Count 

'  The  pink  lily  has  not  been  so  obliging  as 
to  bloom  for  Miss  Smith's  departure,"  Richard 
remarked.  Each  of  them  admired  the  com- 
posure of  the.  other. 

'  We  were  just  wondering  where  you  were. 
The  phaeton  is  at  the  door,  and  my  mother  is 
waiting  to  drive  you  to  the  pier,"  said  Cyril. 

"  Well,  I  am  all  ready.  My  things  are  on 
the  steps." 

"  You  will  have  to  hurry,"  Mrs.  Perkins 
called  out,  as  they  came  up  to  the  hall  door, 
where  she  was  already  sitting  in  the  pony 
carriage. 

"  There  's  lots  of  time,"  Richard  remarked 
reassuringly  as  he  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Where  's  Dolly  ?  You  '11  want  to  say 
good-by  to  her,"  Mrs.  Perkins  went  on. 

"  I  have  already  said  good-by  to  her  once," 
Evelyn  replied  untruthfully.  She  stepped  into 
the  phaeton,  and  Mrs.  Perkins  drove  off. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Palmer  ? "  that 
lady  asked  suspiciously,  as  they  were  driving 
along  the  wooded  road. 

"  I  admire  him  tremendously.  I  only  wish 
he  shared  my  feeling,"  Evelyn  replied,  with  an 
air  of  perfect  candour. 

"  Does  n't  he  ? "  Mrs.  Perkins  asked,  in  an 
interested  tone. 

"  You    can    see  yourself  that  he  generally 


The  Scene  Changes  i?1 

avoids  me,  and  he  has  told  me  more  than  once 
that  he  thoroughly  disapproves  of  me.  He 
thinks  I  ought  to  do  something  besides  amuse 
myself." 

'  That  is  just  what  I  am  always  telling  you," 
Mrs.  Perkins  remarked  cheerfully.  "  If  you 
would  only  read  serious  books,  as  I  do,  or  take 
up  some  philanthropical  or  educational  work, 
like  my  Farmers'  Daughters'  Club,  for  instance, 
it  would  do  you  a  world  of  good.  It  is  just 
the  balance  that  you  need.  I  am  glad  to  have 
you  tell  me  this,"  she  continued,  in  a  more 
friendly  tone  than  she  had  used  to  her  com- 
panion for  a  long  time.  "  I  thought  that  he 
admired  you." 

I  believe  he  does  admire  my  looks  and  my 
singing,"  Evelyn  replied.  "  He  has  spoken 
about  them  to  Dolly." 

It  would  have  been  an  unfortunate  thing 
to  have  anything  come  of  it,  I  am  convinced," 
Mrs.  Perkins  continued.  '  You  see,  he  is  a 
poor  man.  I  believe  that  he  has  nothing 
whatever,  and  all  the  money  he  has  earned  has 
gone  to  pay  some  debts  of  his  father's.  Now 
it  stands  to  reason  that  you  are  no  wife  for  a 
poor  man.  You  would  keep  his  nose  at  the 
grindstone  to  supply  you  with  luxuries.  Be- 
sides, Palmer  is  a  thoroughly  domestic  man. 
He  would  want  a  wife  who  loved  children  and 


i72       The  Things  that  Count 

liked  to  stay  at  home  evenings  and  read 
aloud." 

'  How  fortunate  it  is,  then,  that  we  have 
not  fallen  in  love  with  each  other ! ' '  Evelyn 
remarked. 

"  It  is  fortunate.  ,  I  do  not  think  that  you 
are  suited  to  each  other  in  the  least,  and  I  have 
been  afraid  for  some  time  that  you  were  get- 
ting sweet  on  him.  Palmer  wants  somebody 
more  serious,  more  mature,  in  fact,  than  you 
are.  I  am  sure  that  he  must  cringe  inwardly 
at  hearing  you  speak  of  sentiment  and  religion 
and  all  that  is  holiest  in  the  light  fashion  that 
you  sometimes  do." 

"  I  do  not  think  Mr.  Palmer  is  sentimental," 
said  Evelyn,- resisting  the  temptation  to  em- 
phasise the  Mr. 

'  That  shows  how  little  you  know  him.  I 
am  convinced  that  under  the  mask  he  wears 
before  the  world  there  exists  the  truest,  most 
just  appreciation  of  the  things  which  beautify 
life  for  us.  He  has  the  greatest  reverence  for 
womankind,  for  the  love  of  man  and  wife,  for 
the  home,  and  I  am  sure  that  he  could  never 
care  seriously  for  a  woman  who  mocks  at  these 
things." 

"  I  am  glad  you  warned  me,"  Evelyn  re- 
marked innocently,  too  innocently;  for  Mrs. 
Perkins  looked  at  her  sharply.  She  made 


The  Scene  Changes          i?3 

haste  to  add :  "  I  used  to  wonder  what  was  the 
reason  of  a  certain  antagonism  he  showed  to 
me." 

"  Depend  upon  it,  the  way  to  attract  a  man 
like  Richard  Palmer  is  not  by  surface  charms, 
by  glitter.  He  is  not  a  man  to  be  won  by 
smiles  and  funny  little  songs,  as  a  lesser  man 
might.  He  will  never  give  his  heart  to  a 
woman  who  does  not  possess  the  solider 
virtues,  who  has  not  a  serious  side  as  well  as  a 
light  side  to  her."  Evelyn  was  tempted  to 
put  in: 

"  Do  you  mean  like  yourself  ?  "  but  she  did 
not  dare.  Besides,  her  steamer  was  landing, 
so  she  got  out  of  the  phaeton,  and  said  good-by 
to  her  hostess. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  be  able  to  come  back 
before  the  summer  is  over,"  that  lady  said 
graciously,  evidently  reluctant  to  let  her  at- 
tractive guest  go,  now  that  her  suspicions  had 
been  laid  at  rest. 

Cyril  and  Richard,  who  had  taken  the  short 
cut  by  the  beach,  were  waiting  to  put  her  on 
board.  They  were  both  surprised  that  Dolly 
had  not  appeared,  as  she  had  intended  coming 
with  them.  They  took  Evelyn's  things  on 
board  for  her  and  down  into  her  cabin,  for  the 
boat  remained  some  minutes  at  Chenook. 

The  last  thing  Evelyn  saw  as  they  steamed 


174       The  Things  that  Count 

off  from  the  pier  was  Richard's  face.  When 
it  was  no  longer  visible,  she  went  down  to  her 
cabin,  feeling  very  forlorn.  After  she  had 
arranged  her  traps  in  her  usual  neat  fashion, 
she  took  her  steamer  rug  and  golf  cape,  went 
up  on  deck,and  established  herself  in  a  secluded 
corner  to  think  it  all  over.  Now,  for  the  first 
time,  she  allowed  her  mind  to  dwell  on  the 
cause  of  the  acute  misery  that  she  had  been 
feeling  ever  since  she  had  lifted  up  her  head 
from  Richard's  shoulder  and  had  seen  Dolly's 
blue  sunbonnet  disappearing  behind  the  trees. 
Before  this,  she  had  persistently  refused  to  let 
herself  think  of  it  at  all,  but  had  fought  the 
subject  off  with  a  stern,  "  There  '11  be  time 
enough  for  that  later."  She  wondered  if  she 
had  done  wisely  in  not  mentioning  the  circum- 
stance to  Richard.  She  had  had  no  opportun- 
ity, to  be  sure,  but  she  could  have  easily  made 
one  in  those  last  minutes  in  her  cabin.  Cyril 
had  shown  a  disposition  to  take  himself  off 
more  than  once,  but  she  had  always  detained 
him.  Neither  she  nor  Richard  was  anxious 
to  be  left  alone.  Their  relations  had  reached 
the  point  where  a  few  words  more  or  less  were 
of  no  value.  There  was  so  much  to  say  be- 
tween them  that  there  was  nothing  to  say.  It 
had  been  an  impulse  to  leave  Richard  in  ignor- 
ance of  what  she  had  seen,  and  now  that  she 


The  Scene  Changes          175 

thought  it  over,  she  finally  decided  that  it  was 
the  wisest  thing  that  she  could  have  done. 

Her  first  idea  had  been  that  she  would  write 
to  Dolly  and  explain;  but,  on  reflection,  there 
did  not  seem  to  be  anything  to  explain.  She 
could  not  write:  "  It  is  not  as  you  think.  I 
have  not  been  playing  a  double  part,"  because 
her  conscience  made  her  acknowledge  that  she 
had  been  playing  a  double  part.  As  to  there 
being  no  serious  matrimonial  intentions  be- 
tween her  and  Richard,  that  would  only  hurt 
her  still  more  in  Dolly's  eyes.  To  her  un- 
sophisticated little  Puritan  mind,  no  nice  girl, 
under  any  conceivable  circumstances,  would 
be  found  in  any  such  compromising  situation 
unless  she  had  been  formally  asked  to  marry  a 
man  and  had  as  formally  consented.  For  a 
girl  to  let  a  man  kiss  her  "  just  for  instance," 
as  Evelyn  put  it,  betrayed  a  lack  both  of  good 
taste  and  principle  that  put  her  immediately 
beyond  the  pale  of  well-regulated  young  lady- 
hood. ' '  Poor  little  Dolly !  nobody  ever  wanted 
to  kiss  her,"  Evelyn  said  to  herself,  with  the 
pity  that  the  woman  with  power  over  men 
always  feels  for  the  woman  without  it.  "  Still, 
I  don't  believe  that  she  would  do  it,  if  they 
did  want  to,"  she  added  honestly;  making  the 
further  reflection  that  if  they  did  want  to  she 
would  not  be  the  same  girl,  and  that,  there- 


176       The  Things  that  Count 

fore,  no  conclusions  drawn  from  the  present 
premises  would  hold.  It  was  as  fruitless  a 
speculation,  she  concluded,  as  wondering 
whether  you  would  not  have  recovered  from  a 
complaint  as  quickly  without  a  doctor. 

She  decided  at  last  that  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  to  wait  until  time  should  soften  the 
first  impression,  and  then  on  some  future 
occasion,  when  chance  should  throw  them 
together,  to  tell  Dolly  simply  that  she  and 
Richard  had  been  greatly  attracted  to  each 
other  at  Chenook,  but  had  decided  that  they 
could  not  be  happy  together,  and  had  accord- 
ingly said  good-by  forever  the  day  she  left. 
Without  suggesting  that  any  duplicity  might 
be  laid  at  her  door,  she  could  say,  without  too 
great  a  deviation  from  the  truth,  that  the  situa- 
tion had  not  been  openly  acknowledged  be- 
tween them  until  the  Sunday  when  Dolly  was 
at  Haverly.  She  would  imply  that  this  was 
the  reason  why  she  had  not  confided  in  her. 
She  felt  that  it  was  fortunate  that  Dolly  had 
had  no  means  of  knowing  that  she  had  seen 
her  as  she  retreated,  and,  consequently,  would 
give  her  the  credit  of  making  the  confession  of 
her  own  free  will.  This  explanation  was  true 
to  the  letter;  and  yet  Evelyn  felt  its  deviation 
in  spirit  so  strongly  that  she  felt  that  it  would 
not  be  believed  in  the  first  flush  of  Dolly's  dis- 


The  Scene  Changes          17? 

covery,  while  it  would  stand  a  better  chance 
later  on,  when  dates  and  details  had  grown  a 
little  confused  in  her  mind. 

It  was  characteristic  of  Evelyn  that  she  felt 
acutely  sorry  for  Dolly  in  what  she  must  be 
suffering  at  that  time.  It  must  be  a  terrible 
experience  for  her  to  discover  that  her  two  best 
friends  had  been  deceiving  her;  that  she  had 
been,  perhaps,  merely  a  catspaw  for  them  both, 
a  blind  to  attract  attention  from  their  own 
little  game.  It  would  especially  hurt  her  to 
find  Richard  guilty  of  deceit,  for  she  had  be- 
lieved in  him  as  in  a  god.  Evelyn  had  often 
laughed  at  her  for  her  unbounded  faith. 
Doubtless  Dolly  would  remember  that  fact 
now,  and  would  think  that  she  had  spoken 
from  a  knowledge  of  their  mutual  guilt,  and 
had  not  been  simply  teasing  her  with  cynical 
generalities,  as  had  been  the  case.  The  more 
she  thought  of  Dolly's  suffering,  the  worse  she 
felt.  Indeed,  she  suffered  so  much  for  her  that 
she  almost  lost  sight  of  her  own  sorrows.  She 
hoped  that  the  experience  would  not  harden 
her  and  make  her  suspicious.  She  had  often 
laughed  at  Dolly's  optimistic  faith  in  the  truth 
and  loyalty  of  her  friends;  but  the  thought 
hurt  her,  that  it  might  be  killed  through  her 
own  lack  of  straightforwardness. 

As  she  thought  it  over,  it  seemed  to  Evelyn 


178       The  Things  that  Count 

that  she  had  been  unfair  from  the  first.  She 
should  not  have  let  Dolly  confide  her  innocent 
little  enthusiasms  over  Richard  without  letting 
her  know  that  he  was  more  or  less  interested 
in  herself,  and  that  she  returned  his  interest. 
She  tore  down  relentlessly  her  sophistry  that 
she  had  had  no  definite  knowledge  on  the  sub- 
ject. She  had  been  morally  sure  of  it  even 
before  that  night  on  the  beach  when  she  had 
clung  to  him  in  her  fright  (her  assumed  fright, 
she  called  it  now),  and  had  felt  his  heart 
making  frantic  leaps  at  having  her  so  near. 
She  had  been  unfair  all  along:  unfair  in  the 
pretended  fairness  that  led  her  to  hold  herself 
back  from  Richard.  She  had  known  instinct- 
ively that  he  was  a  man  who  was  tired  of 
women's  interest  in  himself,  and  she  had  felt  a 
silent  response  in  him  to  every  act  of  with- 
drawal on  her  part.  There  had  never  been 
one  second  when  she  had  not  known  that  the 
way  to  win  him  was  to  hold  herself  aloof  from 
the  contest.  Her  moments  of  dropping  her 
role  had  been  nicely  calculated  to  let  him  see 
what  her  drawing  near  would  be  like.  There 
should  be  no  danger  of  his  believing  her  incap- 
able of  warmth.  He  should  have  glimpses  of 
what  it  would  be  like  to  love  and  be  loved  by 
a  beautiful,  warm,  human  creature  of  this  earth 
like  herself.  She  was  all  woman,  every  inch 


The  Scene  Changes  179 

of  her,  and  she  wanted  him  to  know  it.  How 
incomprehensible  all  this  would  have  been  to 
Dolly's  innocent  little  soul.  '  How  coarse 
and  unrefined  she  would  think  me  if  she  knew 
it,"  she  said  to  herself. 

Evelyn  felt  sincerely  ashamed  of  her  lack  of 
honesty  in  all  her  relations  that  summer.  She 
was  particularly  ashamed  of  herself  for  having 
stooped  to  deceive  Mrs.  Perkins,  in  the  eleventh 
hour,  in  regard  to  her  relations  with  Richard, 
the  more  so  as  she  recognised  instantly  her 
motive  for  having  done  this.  She  wanted  to 
reassure  her,  and  so  pave  the  way  to  future 
favours.  She  knew  that  if  she  left  Chenook 
with  matters  on  their  present  footing,  she 
would  probably  never  find  herself  enjoying  the 
luxuries  of  the  Perkins  household  again.  Ev- 
elyn was  not  a  woman  to  snub  the  biggest 
bore  that  ever  asked  her  to  dance.  There 
was  no  telling  when  he  might  not  be  useful. 

The  wind  had  been  rising  and  the  sea  getting 
rougher  for  some  time,  and  she  had  stopped 
her  self-examination  frequently  to  wonder  if 
she  had  not  better  go  to  her  cabin.  At  this 
point  she  felt  sure  of  it,  and  for  the  rest  of  her 
journey  she  was  so  unhappy  physically  that 
her  other  troubles  seemed  unimportant.  One 
little  incident  was  very  consoling.  As  she  lay 
down  in  her  berth,  she  was  conscious  of  a  de- 


i8o       The  Things  that  Count 

licious  aromatic  odour.  She  lifted  her  pillow, 
as  it  seemed  to  come  from  under  it,  and  dis- 
covered a  big  silk  handkerchief  tied  into  a  bag 
and  filled  with  pine  needles.  She  remem- 
bered expressing  her  regret  to  Richard  that 
there  were  none  of  the  aromatic  kind  at  Che- 
nook.  He  had  probably  got  them  for  her 
from  some  distance,  which  explained  a  long 
absence  of  the  day  before.  It  was  a  character- 
istic present.  Richard  never  did  the  stereo- 
typed thing.  It  was  very  comforting.  At 
her  first  comparatively  well  moment  it  oc- 
curred to  her  to  put  her  fingers  inside,  and,  to 
her  delight,  she  found  a  scrap  of  paper.  On 
this  was  written:  "  You  do  not  know  how  I 
have  loved  you,  and  you  never  will  now.  You 
will  always  be  a  little  different  to  me  from 
other  women,  no  matter  what  the  future  has 
in  store  for  either  of  us.  If  you  ever  have 
need  of  me,  I  will  do  anything  in  a  man's 
power  for  you.  Never  forget  that.  — Richard. 
"  He  will  do  anything  for  me  except  marry 
me,"  Evelyn  said  to  herself  regretfully.  And 
yet  this  note  made  her  happy;  at  least,  as 
happy  as  a  woman  can  be  who  is  in  the  agonies 
of  acute  seasickness,  with  the  underlying  con- 
sciousness that  she  has  been  found  out  in  a 
course  of  deception  by  one  of  her  best  friends. 
She  was  surprised  that  she  could  feel  as  happy 
as  she  did  under  the  circumstances. 


CHAPTER  X 

LUCIA 

IT  was  late  in  November  before  Evelyn  re- 
turned to  New  York.  One  snowy  after- 
noon, not  long  afterwards,  she  was  riding 
up-town  in  a  Madison  Avenue  car,  when  her 
attention  was  struck  by  a  young  girl  sitting 
directly  opposite  her.  There  had  been  a 
block  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  car  was 
the  last  of  four  or  five  in  a  string,  so,  for  a 
wonder,  they  were  alone  at  their  end  of  the 
car.  The  girl  was  so  pretty  that  Evelyn  could 
not  take  her  eyes  off  her.  She  was  sure  that 
she  had  not  seen  her  before,  but  there  was 
something  perplexingly  familiar  about  her 
face.  It  was  only  a  minute  before  the  solution 
of  the  problem  flashed  across  her.  The  girl 
was  a  beautiful  edition,  an  Edition  de  luxe,  as  it 
were,  of  Dolly  Van  Horn.  The  family  like- 
ness was  unmistakable;  there  was,  besides,  the 
same  beautiful  hair.  Before  long  Evelyn  saw 
181 


1 82       The  Things  that  Count 

that  her  companion  was  studying  her  appear- 
ance with  equal  interest,  though  she  turned  her 
eyes  away  every  time  that  Evelyn's  strayed  in 
her  direction.  At  length  their  eyes  met  full, 
and,  leaning  over,  Evelyn  said : 

"  I  think  you  must  be  Lucia  Van  Horn." 

1  Yes,"  returned  the  girl,  with  a  sweet,  half- 
shy,  half-friendly  smile.  Evelyn  crossed  the 
car  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  I  knew  you  by  your  likeness  to  Dolly.  I 
am  Evelyn  Smith,"  she  said. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  girl  in  a  tone  of 
pleased  surprise.  '  Dolly  used  to  write  so 
much  about  you  from  Chenook." 

"  I  suppose  Dolly  went  to  Europe  with  Mrs. 
Perkins,"  Evelyn  remarked  next. 

"  No,  she  did  n't.  She  did  not  like  to  leave 
mother,  who  has  not  been  at  all  well  all  the 
autumn;  and  Uncle  Twiller  had  been  trying 
for  a  long  time  to  get  her  to  leave  Mrs.  Per- 
kins, and  come  to  be  his  secretary,  so  she  went 
to  him." 

'  Mrs.  Perkins  must  have  felt  badly." 

"  She  did.  She  tried  every  way  she  could 
to  get  Dolly  to  go  with  her.  Dolly  has  never 
wanted  to  go  to  Uncle  Twiller,  because  she 
was  sure  that  it  would  be  only  play  work ;  that 
he  would  pay  her  her  salary  and  not  give  her 
half  enough  to  do  ;  but  a  couple  of  months  ago 


Lucia  183 

he  had  a  slight  stroke  of  paralysis  in  his  right 
arm,  so  he  has  to  have  some  one  to  write  his 
letters  now." 

"  She  lives  with  the  Twiller  Van  Horns  ?  " 
Evelyn  asked. 

4 '  No ;  she  lives  at  home  with  Mother  and  me, 
and  goes  there  from  nine  until  four.  She  is 
making  a  catalogue  of  the  Van  Horn  library, 
and  she  gives  Charlotte  lessons  every  day 
too." 

"  Dolly  is  the  most  conscientious  mortal," 
said  Evelyn.  "  She  is  always  so  afraid  of  a 
sinecure.  She  used  to  encourage  Mrs.  Perkins 
in  all  her  schemes  because  they  kept  her  busy. 
I  have  n't  heard  a  word  from  any  of  the  people 
at  Chenook  since  I  left,"  she  continued,  "  ex- 
cept a  half-page  note  from  Mrs.  Perkins,  telling 
me  that  she  was  going  abroad  with  the  Lorri- 
mers.  She  said  nothing  about  Dolly,  but  I 
supposed  that  she  was  going  too." 

No;  she  did  n't  think  that  she  would  get 
along  well  with  the  Lorrimers,  even  if  she  had 
been  willing  to  leave  Mother." 

"Do  you  ever  see  anything  of  Cyril?" 
Evelyn  asked. 

'  Yes ;  he  came  to  see  us  several  times  be- 
fore he  went  to  Harvard,  and  he  is  coming  to 
take  dinner  with  us  on  Christmas  Day." 

"  I  heard  indirectly  that  he  had  passed  his 


1 84       The  Things  that  Count 

examinations.  How  does  he  like  it  at  Har- 
vard ?" 

"  Very  much.  Dolly  has  had  several  letters 
from  him.  Mr.  Palmer  went  with  him  there 
and  introduced  him  to  some  of  his  Boston  and 
Cambridge  friends.  Dolly  thinks  that  he  is 
coming  out  of  himself.  He  has  been  taking 
dancing  lessons  (he  never  would  before),  and 
he  lives  in  very  good  style.  You  see,  he  has 
the  reputation  of  being  so  very  wealthy  that 
people  are  very  nice  to  him  when  he  will  let 
them  be." 

"  And  Mr.  Palmer,  where  is  he,  and  what  is 
he  doing  ?  "  asked  Evelyn. 

"  Here  in  New  York.  He  has  gone  into  the 
law  office  of  a  friend  of  his,  a  Mr.  Hunt." 

;<  Have  you  met  him  ?  "  Evelyn  inquired. 

"  Yes.  Is  n't  he  nice  ?  "  Lucia  blushed  a 
little  as  she  said  this,  as  if  ashamed  of  her  girl- 
ish enthusiasm. 

"Is  n't  he!"  Evelyn  exclaimed  respons- 
ively. 

"  Mother  likes  him  so  much,  and  invites  him 
to  dinner  quite  often ;  and  sometimes  he  drops 
in  to  lunch  on  Sundays  of  his  own  accord. 
He  takes  Dolly  and  me  to  things  sometimes; 
at  least  he  did  once."  Lucia  was  charming. 

"  I  get  out  in  a  minute,"  said  Evelyn.  ;<  I 
am  so  glad  to  know  you  at  last.  Dolly  used 


Lucia  185 

to  tell  me  a  great  deal  about  you,  but  I  find 
that  she  did  n't  say  half  enough.  How  is 
your  sketching  ?  Are  you  still  at  the  art 
school  ?  " 

'  Yes,  I  go  there  every  morning.  I  've  just 
begun  again.  Mother  has  n't  been  well  enough 
to  have  me  away  so  long  before." 

"Give  my  love  to  Dolly,  and  tell  her  to  come 
and  see  me  if  she  has  time.  I  am  staying  with 
the  Mitchells,  on  East  68th  Street,  and  I  shall 
be  there  some  weeks  longer.  I  '11  write  the 
number  down  for  you.  Good-by." 

"  There!  That  was  a  fortunate  accident,  a 
very  nice  way  to  open  negotiations,"  Evelyn 
said  to  herself  as  she  walked  away  from  the 
car.  She  wanted  to  think  a  little,  so,  as  it 
had  stopped  snowing,  she  walked  down  Madi- 
son Avenue  and  around  the  block  by  way  of 
6/th  Street.  She  knew  that  she  would  be 
expected  to  talk  the  minute  she  entered 
the  house.  It  occurred  to  her  that  Lucia 
would  be  sure  to  repeat  their  conversation, 
and  so  Dolly  would  know,  without  any 
appearance  on  her  part  of  making  explan- 
ations, that  she  and  Richard  did  not  cor- 
respond, and  had  seen  nothing  of  each  other 
since  that  parting  scene  at  Chenook.  How 
attractive  Lucia  was!  There  was  something 
so  fresh  and  youthful  about  her,  and  her 


1 86       The  Things  that  Count 

face  was  so  exquisitely  lovely.  Dolly  had 
always  told  her  that  Lucia  was  very  pretty, 
but  hearsay  beauty  is  never  impressive.  Lucia 
was  not  at  all  like  Dolly,  as  soon  as  one  be- 
came accustomed  to  the  strong  family  resem- 
blance. Dolly  was  plain  bread  and  butter, 
while  Lucia  was  an  etherealised  concoction  of 
white-of-egg  and  sugar.  Dolly  brought  to 
mind  the  practical,  the  unromantic;  Lucia's 
whole  appearance  suggested  poetry  and  rom- 
ance. She  seemed  a  different  order  of  being 
from  her  sensible,  matter-of-fact  sister,  and 
yet  her  smile  showed  Dolly's  sweetness  of  dis- 
position. "  If  Dolly  were  not  so  magnanimous, 
so  large-souled,  it  would  be  terrible  for  her  to 
have  a  younger  sister  like  that.  I  don't  think 
I  could  be  as  fond  of  her  as  she  is,"  Evelyn 
said  to  herself.  "  Lucia  will  get  everything 
that  Dolly  has  missed,"  she  added.  At  this 
suggestion,  a  thought  darted  into  her  mind 
that  made  her  feel  cold  all  over.  Would  Lucia 
get  one  particular  thing  that  Dolly  had  missed  ? 
Why  did  Richard  take  the  trouble  to  go  to  see 
them  ?  Was  it  probable  that  a  man  with  as 
much  to  interest  him  as  he  always  had  would 
care  to  go  to  see  Dolly  more  than  once  ?  And 
if  she  herself  had  been  so  attracted  to  Lucia  in 
one  short  interview,  was  n't  it  likely  that  he 
would  be  so  in  a  much  more  intense  degree  ? 


Lucia  187 

It  came  to  her  with  the  certainty  of  absolute 
knowledge  what  the  result  would  be,  and  her 
conviction  gave  her  pain  beyond  any  that  she 
supposed  it  possible  Richard  could  cause  her. 
His  power  to  trouble  her  was  inconceivably 
great,  considering  the  apparent  slightness  of 
her  feeling  for  him. 

She  had  reached  the  house,  and  it  was  begin- 
ning to  snow  again,  so  a  due  regard  for  her 
hat  sent  her  indoors,  where  her  friend,  Mrs. 
Mitchell,  who  was  confined  to  the  house  with 
a  cold,  was  impatiently  waiting  for  her  to  come 
in  and  amuse  her.  She  had  one  more  minute 
of  freedom  while  she  put  away  her  outdoor 
things  and  changed  her  gown.  She  went  to 
her  top  drawer,  took  out  the  bag  of  pine 
needles,  and  read  for  the  hundredth  time  the 
note  that  Palmer  had  written  her,  the  only  one 
she  had  ever  had  from  him.  When  she  was 
ready,  she  went  down-stairs  with  the  brightest 
of  smiles  on  her  face,  to  make  herself  agreeable 
to  her  hostess. 

To  Evelyn's  surprise,  the  first  delivery  the 
next  morning  brought  her  a  note  from  Dolly, 
a  friendly  little  letter,  saying  that  she  would 
come  to  see  her  in  a  few  days.  It  was  not  so 
impulsive,  so  overwhelmingly  cordial  as  Dolly 
herself;  but  perhaps  her  notes  never  were.  So 
many  people  have  a  different  self  on  paper, 


1 88       The  Things  that  Count 

and  Evelyn  had  never  met  Dolly's  paper  self 
before.  At  all  events,  it  showed  no  resent- 
ment. She  came  to  call  two  days  later,  and 
her  manner  was  perfectly  friendly.  The  two 
girls  had  no  private  conversation,  as  Mrs. 
Mitchell  was  in  the  room  all  the  time.  Dolly 
invited  her  to  come  to  dinner  the  next  night, 
and  Evelyn  accepted  gratefully. 

Mrs.  Van  Horn,  Dolly's  mother,  was  a  sweet, 
unselfish  woman,  uncomplainingly  ill  of  an  in- 
curable disease,  which,  however,  gave  her  long 
intervals  of  comparative  health.  She  and 
Lucia  and  Dolly  made  up  the  family,  with 
which  Evelyn  soon  came  to  feel  very  much  at 
home.  They  lived  in  a  comfortable  little 
apartment,  not  very  far  from  the  Mitchells',  of 
which,  so  Dolly  told  her,  Uncle  Twiller  paid 
the  rent. 

"  We  should  be  very  poor  if  it  were  not  for 
his  kindness,"  she  explained.  "  And  of  course 
we  have  to  take  it  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  is 
given,  so  long  as  mother  needs  it,  though  Lucia 
and  I  would  like  to  be  entirely  independent. 
I  can  never  see  why  a  man,  because  he  happens 
to  be  rich,  should  support  all  his  relatives. 
They  would  have  to  get  along  some  way,  if 
they  did  n't  have  him.  Now  Uncle  Twiller 
has  about  fifty  relatives  and  connections  to 
whom  he  gives  money  regularly." 


Lucia  189 

"  But  how  is  it  that  your  uncle  should  be  so 
rich  and  your  father  leave  so  little  ?"  asked 
Evelyn. 

"  My  grandfather  left  them  an  equal  amount, 
but  my  father  lost  his  in  some  speculations, 
while  Uncle  Twiller  has  twenty  times  as  much 
now  as  he  had  originally.  He  is  a  very  good 
business  man.  He  was  so  hurt  at  my  wanting 
him  to  stop  mother's  allowance  when  I  first 
went  to  Mrs.  Perkins  that  I  have  never  dared 
suggest  it  since.  He  gives  Lucia  and  me  each 
a  hundred  dollars  every  Christmas  besides. 
Aunt  Charlotte  used  to  be  always  giving  us 
things,  but  I  won't  let  her  any  more,"  she  con- 
tinued. "  I  hate  a  relation  of  that  kind.  I 
could  n't  be  natural  under  it;  and  I  was  always 
so  afraid  of  seeming  to  be  hinting,  that  I  went 
to  the  other  extreme.  I  used  to  wear  out  my 
best  clothes  by  putting  them  on  whenever  I 
went  to  their  house,  so  that  I  should  n't  seem 
to  be  holding  up  my  shabbiness  for  them  to 
see.  It  was,  as  I  told  Aunt  Charlotte,  that  I 
wanted  to  feel  free  to  make  remarks  as  to 
whether  my  gloves  would  stand  another  clean- 
ing, or  as  to  the  economy  of  making  a  gown 
over,  without  feeling  as  if  I  had  made  a  break. 
If  the  thing  I  needed  came  a  few  days  later,  I 
felt  uncomfortable;  and  if  it  did  n't,  I  felt  still 
more  so,  because  I  thought  they  thought  I 


190       The  Things  that  Count 

had  been  hinting,  and  were  determined  not  to 
notice  it."  Dolly  was  perfectly  innocent,  but 
this  conversation  made  Evelyn  feel  uncomfort- 
able. She  was  too  unpleasantly  conscious  her- 
self  of  similar  relations  in  her  own  life,  in  which 
the  propriety  of  receiving  was  not  so  well  es- 
tablished, and  in  which  she  had  not  always 
been  particular  about  concealing  her  wants. 

Transparent  as  Dolly  usually  was,  Evelyn 
could  not  succeed,  by  indirect  methods,  in 
fathoming  her  state  of  mind  about  what  had 
happened  at  Chenook.  It  was  a  significant 
fact  that  she  seldom  referred  to  her  stay  there 
if  she  could  help  it,  and  never,  by  any  chance, 
to  Richard.  Evelyn  would  speak  of  him  her- 
self occasionally,  to  avoid  the  awkwardness  of 
a  tabooed  topic,  but  Dolly  never  followed  up 
the  allusion.  Lucia  and  Mrs.  Van  Horn 
spoke  of  him  quite  freely,  however,  and  it  was 
through  them  that  Evelyn  knew  that  he  still 
came  to  the  house  occasionally,  though  she 
had  never  happened  to  meet  him  there.  It 
was  never  suggested  that  she  should  meet  him 
there. 

Lucia,  as  she  knew  her  better,  seemed  to  her 
even  more  attractive  than  she  had  done  at  first. 
She  had  all  Dolly's  virtues  and  none  of  her  de- 
ficiencies. With  every  disposition  to  find  her 
wanting,  the  only  criticism  that  Evelyn  could 


Lucia  191 

make  of  her  was  that  she  was  very  young,  and 
doubtless,  in  a  man's  eyes — for  she  could  not 
help  looking  at  her  from  the  point  of  view  of 
one  particular  man — this  would  not  be  a  draw- 
back. Lucia  was  comprehensively  inexperi- 
enced, and  had  not  discovered  her  own  power 
yet.  She  was  romantic,  and  had  ideals  which 
no  mortal  could  live  up  to.  She  had  been 
brought  up  in  an  old-fashioned  way  (Mrs.  Van 
Horn  reverenced  the  traditions  of  her  genera- 
tion about  the  education  of  young  girls),  and 
had  decided  ideas  of  her  own  in  old-fashioned 
lines.  She  had  been  too  shy  to  make  intimate 
friends  at  school,  and  had  consequently  kept 
an  innocence  that  one  rarely  sees  nowadays. 
Her  comments  on  life  and  things  were  often 
so  naive  and  childish,  formed  so  evidently  from 
the  conventual  standpoint,  that  Evelyn  had 
almost  irresistible  impulses  to  enlighten  her  a 
little  about  the  world  she  lived  in.  She  resisted 
these,  for  several  reasons,  one  of  which  was  that 
Lucia  was  on  confidential  terms  with  her 
mother,  and  she  did  not  want  to  prejudice  the 
latter  against  herself.  The  most  weighty, 
however,  was  that  she  realised  Lucia's  princi- 
pal drawback  to  be  her  spirituality  (she  seemed 
more  of  the  angelic  than  the  feminine  type), 
and  she  did  not  care  to  make  her  any  more 
formidable  than  she  already  was  by  putting 


i92       The  Things  that  Count 

her  in  the  way  to  cure  this  defect.  Mrs.  Van 
Horn  and  Dolly  evidently  considered  it  an 
additional  charm  in  the  child,  as  they  called 
her,  but  Evelyn  was  not  of  their  opinion.  She 
liked  warm,  earthy,  human  things,  and  hated 
the  superstition  that  considered  it  a  virtue  to 
live  in  this  world  and  not  be  of  it.  Ignorance 
of  the  fundamental  facts  of  life  was  a  disad- 
vantage in  her  eyes.  One  reason  why  she 
especially  disliked  it  was  that  it  kept  men  and 
women  apart,  while  she  believed  that  the  more 
men  and  women  had  in  common  the  more  in- 
teresting their  relations  became,  in  that  there 
were  so  many  more  meeting-points.  She 
wanted  to  know  life,  and  men's  lives  in  par- 
ticular, thoroughly  well,  to  understand  their 
temptations,  and  to  form  her  convictions,  her 
principles,  as  they  would  be  called,  in  accord- 
ance with  such  knowledge;  on  facts,  not  on 
superstitions  and  the  one-sided  presentations  of 
old  maids'  novels.  A  woman  could  be  much 
more  of  an  influence  for  good  in  a  man's  life 
if  she  knew  something  about  that  life. 

Now  a  real  friendship  with  Lucia  Van  Horn 
would  be  impossible  for  a  man.  "  And  they 
think  it  a  gain  that  she  should  be  at  such  a 
disadvantage,"  Evelyn  often  said  to  herself, 
referring  to  Dolly  and  her  mother.  What  did 
she  gain  by  it  ?  Purity  ?  Lucia  would  always 


Lucia  193 

be  pure.  All  the  knowledge  on  earth  could  not 
make  her  anything  else  but  pure-minded. 
That  was  a  quality  that  was  inborn.  No 
amount  of  knowledge  could  alter  it,  nor  any 
amount  of  ignorance  either.  If  a  girl  were 
harmed  by  knowing  something  of  the  world  in 
which  she  lived,  it  was  her  nature  that  was  to 
blame,  not  the  knowledge.  One  would  n't 
want  the  purity  of  a  mind  that  had  never  been 
exposed  to  temptation,  but  of  one  for  which 
uncleanness  had  no  attraction. 

If  Mrs.  Van  Horn  and  Dolly  had  been  French, 
and  had  been  bringing  Lucia  up  so  that  the 
interesting  experience  of  enlightening  her 
ignorance  should  be  an  additional  bait  to  the 
jaded  taste  of  a  man  on  whom  demi-mond- 
aine  omniscience  had  palled,  Evelyn  could 
have  understood  it  better.  But  no;  their 
method  was  based  solely  on  the  tradition 
that  it  became  young  girls  to  be  innocent. 
Mrs.  Van  Horn  had  been  innocent  herself 
when  she  married  Peter  Van  Horn,  a  dissipated 
scapegrace,  with  nothing  to  recommend  him 
but  a  handsome  face  and  a  distinguished  family 
connection.  Her  married  life  had  been  a  pain- 
ful adjusting  of  impossible  ideals  to  hideous 
facts ;  and  yet  she  was  ready  to  lead  her 
daughter  blindfold  to  the  same  precipice  over 
which  she  had  fallen.  Now  that  she  knew 


194       The  Things  that  Count 

Mrs.  Van  Horn,  Evelyn  understood  better  a 
certain  rigidity  in  Dolly  in  regard  to  what  was 
becoming  for  a  woman  to  do  or  say ;  but  Dolly 
had  been  to  college  and,  to  a  certain  extent, 
out  in  the  world  before  Evelyn  had  known 
her,  while  Lucia  was  still  in  her  mother's 
hands.  Besides,  Dolly  had  a  practical,  observ- 
ing nature  that  would  gather  information  for 
itself,  while  Lucia  was  visionary,  and  learned 
only  what  was  directly  brought  to  her  know- 
ledge. Her  reading,  even  now  that  she  was 
nearly  twenty,  was  strictly  supervised  by  her 
mother.  She  was  not  allowed  to  read  the 
newspapers. 

It  was  a  comfort  to  Evelyn,  as  the  acquaint- 
ance progressed,  to  find  that  Lucia  bored  her  a 
little.  With  all  her  cleverness,  and  she  had  a 
good  deal  of  it,  to  talk  to  her  was  like  talking 
to  a  child,  wearisome  for  any  length  of  time. 
It  was  a  strain  to  expurgate  her  conversation 
of  all  allusions  to  the  unpleasant  truths  which 
she  had  learned  about  her  fellow-creatures  in 
her  journey  through  the  world ;  to  lay  aside  all 
the  compromises  which  she  had  been  forced  to 
make  between  the  way  things  are  and  the  way 
they  ought  to  be ;  and  to  acquiesce  in  appear- 
ance to  Lucia's  ideal  standards  of  morality  and 
propriety.  It  was  hard  to  sit  still  and  keep 
her  opinion  to  herself  while  Lucia  condemned 


Lucia  195 

(she  was  a  young  woman  of  decided  ideas),  in 
all  ignorance  to  be  sure,  some  practice  of  Eve- 
lyn's own,  as  something  that  no  nice  girl  would 
dream  of  doing,  while,  all  the  time,  Evelyn  felt 
that  her  own  doing  it  was  not  degeneracy,  but 
progress:  a  laying  aside  of  a  tradition  that  had 
only  conventionality  to  uphold  it.  And  yet 
at  the  same  time  Evelyn  could  not  help  ac- 
knowledging that  this  ignorance,  which  she 
now  objected  to  so  decidedly,  might  have  a 
certain  fascination  for  her  if  she  had  been  a 
man.  It  would  be  an  interesting  process  to 
initiate  her  slowly  (it  would  have  to  be  done 
very  slowly  with  a  girl  as  spiritually  minded  as 
Lucia),  slowly  and  in  all  honour,  into  a  know- 
ledge of  all  that  was  now  such  an  impenetrable 
mystery  to  her,  or  else  so  entirely  undreamed 
of  in  her  philosophy.  She  wondered  constantly 
how  it  affected  Richard,  and  longed  for  a  chance 
to  ask  him. 

This  temptation  to  enlighten  Lucia  a  little 
when  she  was  airing  her  opinions  of  life  and  its 
complexities  came  frequently  to  Evelyn,  but 
it  never  occurred  to  her  that  she  should  yield 
to  it.  Nevertheless,  that  was  just  the  thing 
she  did  do. 

In  the  early  part  of  February,  she  went  to  the 
Van  Horns'  to  stay  a  week.  She  had  finished 
her  visit  to  the  Mitchells',  and  was  about  to 


196       The  Things  that  Count 

spend  ten  days  with  her  mother  in  Jersey  City 
before  going  down  South  to  some  other  friends, 
in  order  to  have  some  uninterrupted  time  to 
sew  on  the  thin  clothes  that  she  would  need  in 
the  warmer  climate.  The  Van  Horn  girls  per- 
suaded her  to  come  to  them  for  a  week  instead, 
which  she  was  very  glad  to  do,  intending  still 
to  spend  the  last  few  days  with  her  mother. 

Lucia  came  home  from  the  art  school  at  one 
every  day,  and  after  that  she  would  help 
Evelyn  with  her  sewing,  being  much  more 
efficient  with  her  needle  than  Dolly.  Gener- 
ally, they  would  take  their  work  into  the  par- 
lour where  Mrs.  Van  Horn  sat;  but  on  Friday 
afternoon  Evelyn  had  some  cutting-out  for 
which  the  bed  was  convenient,  and  Mrs.  Van 
Horn  was  comfortably  established  on  the  sofa 
with  the  Ladies  Home  Journal  (her  favourite 
reading),  so  they  stayed  in  Evelyn's  room.  It 
was  snowing  hard,  in  great  white  flakes  that 
gave  a  sense  of  seclusion  and  freedom  from 
interruption. 

They  talked  steadily  as  they  sewed,  and, 
after  a  little,  the  talk  drifted  to  the  mutual 
attitude  of  husbands  and  wives.  Lucia  laid 
down  the  law  as  to  what  constituted  an  ideal 
relation,  and  as  to  their  mutual  duties  and 
privileges  towards  each  other,  sketching  a  plan 
which  she  had  evolved  as  to  her  treatment  of 


Lucia  197 

her  own  husband,  if  she  ever  had  one.  It  was 
all  so  ridiculously  inadequate,  and  Lucia's  air 
of  knowing  it  all  was  so  irritating,  that  before 
she  knew  it  Evelyn  was  giving  her  a  few  facts, 
and  Lucia  was  listening  with  flushed  cheeks, 
too  intensely  interested  to  break  away  from 
what  was  evidently  causing  her  to  shrink  in- 
wardly. They  talked  for  two  hours,  Lucia 
asking  no  questions,  but  making  no  protest. 
It  was  Evelyn  who  did  most  of  the  talking, 
Lucia  only  making  an  occasional  insignificant 
comment.  At  last  Mrs.  Van  Horn  called  her, 
and  Evelyn  was  left  to  think  it  over. 

To  her  surprise,  she  had  a  sense  of  guilt, 
such  as  she  used  to  feel  in  her  childhood  when 
she  read  books  that  she  was  not  expected  to 
read.  She  argued  with  herself  that  she  had 
only  followed  out  her  convictions;  that,  since 
she  disapproved  of  such  ignora'nce,  it  was  her 
duty  to  enlighten  it ;  but  her  arguments  had  no 
effect,  because  she  had  to  admit  that  it  had  not 
been  conviction  that  had  led  her  into  it  on  this 
occasion,  but  simply  irritation,  the  fascination 
of  the  subject  and  of  witnessing  its  effect  on  a 
mind  as  unsophisticated  as  Lucia's.  She  felt 
unrefined  and  thoroughly  ashamed  of  herself, 
and  would  have  done  anything  to  undo  her 
afternoon's  work  if  there  had  been  anything  to 
do.  She  felt  that  she  had  broken  the  laws  of 


198       The  Things  that  Count 

hospitality,  and  had  taken  advantage  of  Mrs. 
Van  Horn's  confidence.  The  worst  of  all 
was  the  dread  of  Lucia's  judgment  of  her. 
She  knew  instinctively  how  severe  it  would  be. 
Then  she  had  the  additional  fear  of  her  giving 
some  hint  of  her  revelations  (she  would  never 
speak  of  them  openly)  to  her  mother. 

When  they  met  later,  neither  she  nor  Lucia 
looked  at  each  other.  Evelyn  felt  thoroughly 
uncomfortable,  and  was  glad  that  she  was  to 
go  on  Sunday.  Lucia  avoided  her  carefully 
for  the  rest  of  the  visit,  inventing  every  pos- 
sible excuse  to  keep  herself  from  being  left 
alone  with  her. 


CHAPTER  XI 

EVELYN  GOES  HOME 

EVELYN  was  to  go  early  Sunday  after- 
noon. She  had  been  going  on  Saturday, 
but  Mrs.  Twiller  Van  Horn  had  invited  her 
and  Dolly  to  dinner  Saturday  night,  so  she 
stayed  over  for  that.  Palmer  had  been  invited 
also,  but  he  had  sent  an  excuse.  Evelyn  won- 
dered very  much  if  it  were  genuine.  She  was 
thinking  of  this  thing  Sunday  morning  as  she 
sat  with  Dolly  in  the  parlour.  Lucia  had  been 
sent  to  church,  and  Mrs.  Van  Horn  had  not 
yet  left  her  room.  Dolly  had  started  several 
subjects,  but,  seeing  that  Evelyn  was  indis- 
posed to  talk,  she  considerately  left  her  to  her 
pretence  of  reading,  and  began  a  letter  to  one 
of  her  numerous  college  friends. 

At  about  half-past  twelve, the  door-bell  rang, 

and  the  servant  ushered  in  Palmer.    He  greeted 

Dolly, and  then  turned  towards  Evelyn  and  held 

out  his  hand,  almost  as  if  he  had  seen  her  the 

199 


200       The  Things  that  Count 

day  before.  She  comforted  herself  with  the 
thought  that, while  her  own  heart  was  dancing  a 
jig,  nobody  would  have  suspected  it  from  her 
manner, which  showed  just  the  proper  degree  of 
pleased  surprise  at  his  appearance.  Both  she 
and  Richard  were  perfectly  at  ease,  but  Dolly 
was  a  little  constrained,  and  the  conversation 
languished.  Evelyn  suspected  that  she  was 
casting  around  for  an  excuse  to  leave  the  room  ; 
and  although  she  would  have  liked  it  of  all 
things  in  reality,  she  disliked  the  made-to- 
order  effect  that  it  would  have  so  much  that 
she  prevented  it  by  saying  to  Richard : 

"  I  wish  I  had  known  that  you  were  coming, 
for  I  have  still  my  last  packing  to  do.  I  have 
to  go  directly  after  lunch." 

I  don't  see  why  you  are  in  such  a  tearing 
hurry  to  get  home,"  Dolly  protested. 

"  But,  you  see,  you  don't  know  all  that  I 
have  to  do  between  now  and  Wednesday.  I 
have  to  overhaul  my  last  summer's  things  to- 
night. I  have  a  closet  and  two  trunks  full  of 
possessions  in  Jersey  City,  besides  the  trunk 
that  I  sent  over  yesterday." 

"  What  is  going  to  happen  on  Wednesday  ?  " 
Richard  asked. 

;<  I  am  going  South.     That  is  all." 
'  You  are  not  going  to  be  married  then  ? " 

"  Not  on  this  particular  Wednesday, —  not 


Evelyn  Goes  Home  201 

that  I  know  of  yet,  that  is.  Well,  I  '11  leave 
you  to  Dolly.  Perhaps  I  '11  have  finished  be- 
fore you  go." 

"  Mr.  Palmer  is  going  to  stay  to  lunch," 
said  Dolly. 

''I  '11  see  you  and  your  traps  off  on  your 
journey,"  he  remarked. 

"  I  wish  you  would.  There  is  nothing  I 
hate  more  than  the  eternal  lugging  of  things 
that  I  have  to  do.  My  belongings  are  never 
all  in  one  place." 

In  a  few  minutes  Evelyn  heard  Lucia  come 
in,  and  after  that  there  was  an  eager  buzz  of 
conversation  from  the  parlour,  mingled  with  a 
great  deal  of  laughter.  Evelyn  felt  an  un- 
reasoning sense  of  exclusion,  but  she  perversely 
made  her  packing  last  as  long  as  she  could. 
It  was  disheartening  that  each  of  the  three 
people  in  the  other  room  should  be  decidedly 
out  of  sympathy  with  her.  Dolly  was  friendly 
enough,  but  there  was  a  distinct  difference 
from  the  old  Chenook  days.  She  avoided 
confidences,  and  was  as  anxious  to  keep  out  of 
discussions  of  Evelyn's  self  as  she  had  formerly 
been  to  seek  them.  Lucia  was  unmistakably 
down  on  her,  and  Richard  had  apparently  very 
little  use  for  her.  He  had  let  it  out  incident- 
ally that  he  had  known  of  her  presence  at  the 
little  flat  on  this  and  several  other  occasions, 


202       The  Things  that  Count 

and  he  had  made  no  pretence  of  having  come 
to  see  her  on  this  particular  one.  Indeed,  he 
had  asked  for  Lucia  before  he  had  been  in  the 
room  five  minutes. 

Lucia  was  very  gay  at  luncheon,  and  Palmer 
seemed  much  absorbed  in  her.  Evelyn  talked 
with  Mrs.  Van  Horn  out  of  her  long  training 
in  making  herself  agreeable,  whatever  she 
might  be  feeling.  Immediately  after  lunch, 
she  went  from  the  room,  and  came  back  into 
the  parlour  with  her  wraps  on.  She  left  her 
umbrella  and  bag  in  the  hall,  so  that  they  might 
not  seem  like  a  reminder  to  Palmer.  When 
he  rose  to  accompany  her,  she  protested : 

"Oh,  don't  come,"  she  said  in  a  cordial 
tone,  in  which  no  one  could  have  detected  the 
slightest  trace  of  pique.  "  I  don't  want  to 
take  you  away  when  you  and  Lucia  are  having 
such  a  good  time." 

"  I  can  come  again,"  he  returned,  shaking 
hands  with  Mrs.  Van  Horn. 

!<  Did  n't  you  really  want  me  to  come  ?  "  he 
asked,  when  they  were  in  the  street  together, 
dropping  all  the  distance  out  of  his  voice. 

"  In  one  sense,  I  did  n't.  It  seemed  so 
ridiculous  for  you  to  come  away  just  to  carry 
my  bag  to  the  corner." 

"  But  I  am  going  all  the  way  with  you." 

"  Not  to  Jersey  City  ?" 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          203 

"Why  not?  What  is  the  matter  ?  Do  you 
realise  that  it  is  six  months  since  we  have  seen 
each  other,  and  that  it  may  be  more  before  we 
see  each  other  again  ?  Are  you  afraid  this 
indulgence  will  be  bad  for  me  ? " 

"  Good  heavens,  no  !  "  Evelyn  laughed 
aloud. 

'  The  idea  seems  to  amuse  you,"  he  re- 
turned as  he  signalled  for  a  car. 

'  It  is  very  amusing,"  she  answered,  when 
they  were  seated  in  the  car.  '  You  must 
think  that  I  am  terribly  unsophisticated." 

"  No,  I  never  thought  that,"  he  protested 
with  mock  earnestness. 

"  I  have  known  a  man  or  two  before  you  in 
my  life." 

"  So  I  should  have  supposed." 

"  I  call  that  impertinent." 

It  is  simply  light-heartedness.  After  all, 
why  should  n't  we  see  each  other  occasionally 
—at  the  Van  Horns'  ?  " 

I  am  never  going  to  that  house  again," 
Evelyn  remarked  decidedly.  Richard  looked 
at  her  in  amazement  before  he  said : 

"  May  I  ask  why  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  just  because." 
Because  why  ?  " 

"  Because  they  are  too  good  for  me,  if  you 
will  have  the  truth.  Because  their  incessant 


204       The  Things  that  Count 

virtue  tires  me  to  death.  They  are  too  maid- 
enly and  dutiful,  and  too  unselfish,  and  too  well 
regulated,  and  too  everlastingly  impressed  with 
the  moral  consequence  of  everything  they  do 
or  say.  They  never  lose  sight  of  the  ought  or 
ought  not  in  things  for  one  second.  I  wish 
they  would  do  something  once  in  a  while  with- 
out stopping  to  think  about  it.  Oh,  for  some 
really  wicked  people !  They  make  me  want  to 
do  something  desperate:  '  spit,  and  break  a 
chair,  and  say  damn ! '  for  instance.  Don't  look 
so  astonished.  That  vulgarism  is  n't  my  own. 
I  thought  everyone  knew  it.  It  is  the  theo- 
logical student's  idea  of  a  spree.  I  was  hop- 
ing that  you  would  think  me  vulgar.  I  want 
to  be  vulgar.  I  am  tired  of  refinement." 

"  You  had  better  speak  a  little  lower.  That 
sporty  chap  opposite  is 'trying  hard  to  hear 
what  you  are  saying,"  he  protested  in  an 
undertone. 

"  I  don't  care  this  afternoon.  I  'd  just  as 
soon  talk  at  the  top  of  my  lungs  for  the  benefit 
of  the  whole  car.  Lucia  never  speaks  above  a 
whisper  in  a  public  conveyance." 

'  The  antipathy  does  n't  seem  mutual," 
Richard  remarked,  evidently  much  amused, 
and  not  inclined  to  take  up  the  defence  of 
their  friends.  "  They  seemed  very  sorry  to 
lose  you." 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          205 

"  That  is  just  their  accursed  sense  of  duty 
to  a  guest.  They  'd  be  cordial  to  the  devil 
under  their  own  roof.  No,  Dolly  and  I  got 
along  very  well  at  Chenook,  where  she  was 
away  from  the  family  atmosphere ;  but  we  don't 
here.  We  are  out  of  sympathy,  and  we  both 
of  us  know  it,  though  we  try  hard  to  hide  it. 
Of  course,  I  am  all  wrong.  I  don't  deny  it  for 
a  second;  but,  do  you  know,  I  'd  rather  be 
wrong  with  people  like  myself  than  right  with 
people  like  Mrs.  Van  Horn." 

"Oh,  the  mother,  too!  "  said  Richard,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  She  's  the  worst  of  the  three,  with  her 
everlasting  conscience.  She  begins  in  the 
morning:  '  Girls,  don't  you  think  you  ought 
to  call  on  Mrs.  Jones  this  afternoon?'  or: 
4  One  of  you  must  go  to  church  this  morning,' 
if  it  happens  to  be  Sunday;  and  so  on  till  after 
she  is  in  bed  at  night.  They  all  do  such  mill- 
ions of  things  that  they  don't  want  to  do,  and 
for  which  nobody  is  the  better,  from  an  over- 
grown sense  of  duty.  Why,  the  mere  fact 
that  one  wants  to  do  a  thing  condemns  it  be- 
forehand with  Mrs.  Van  Horn,  and  the  fact 
that  you  don't  want  to  makes  it  seem  the  only 
thing  to  do.  The  poor  benighted  creatures! 
They  are  so  stupidly  old-fashioned  in  their 
way  of  looking  at  things  that  I  am  sorry  for 


206       The  Things  that  Count 

them.  And  they  are  so  serenely  satisfied  that 
they  are  right,  so  complacently  virtuous,  so 
calmly  superior,  that  I  want  to  slap  them," 
she  ended  up  in  undignified  fashion.  Richard 
laughed  heartily  at  her  anticlimax. 

"  It  does  me  good  to  hear  you  talk,"  he 
said,  smiling  at  her.  "It  is  so  long  since  I 
have  heard  the  sound  of  your  voice!  " 

Evelyn  began  again  on  the  Van  Horns  when 
they  were  on  the  ferryboat.  Evidently,  she 
was  full  of  her  subject. 

"  And  Mrs.  Van  Horn's  point  of  view  is  so 
out  of  focus.  She  is  always  making  a  fuss  about 
chaperons,  and  escorts,  and  social  forms  that 
are  out  of"  place  when  girls  are  earning  their 
own  living.  She  actually  believes  that  people 
notice  them,  and  the  way  they  do  or  don't  do 
things,  and  expect  them  to  keep  up  to  certain 
standards.  But  the  thing  that  annoyed  me 
most  —  it  is  a  little  thing,  but  it  made  me  as 
angry  as  if  it  had  been  a  state  affair — was  this : 
I  spoke  of  something  that  I  should  do  if  I  were 
married  (it  was  nothing  of  any  consequence), 
and  Mrs.  Van  Horn  said :  '  If  your  husband 
will  allow  you  to,  my  dear.  Husbands  don't 
usually  allow  their  wives  to  do  thus  and  so,  and 
so  on.'  The  idea  of  there  being  a  question  of 
allowing  between  me  and  any  man,  and  of  her 
being  so  stupid  that  she  could  n't  realise  it  !  " 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          207 

"What  did  you  say  to  that?"  Richard 
asked  with  interest. 

"  I  did  n't  say  anything.  What  was  the 
use  ?  She  could  n't  understand  my  resent- 
ment, or  see  it  as  I  do,  if  I  talked  forever." 

"  Come,"  Richard  began  authoritatively. 
"  Don't  let  's  talk  about  the  Van  Horns  any 
more  when  we  have  so  little  time  left.  This  is 
the  first  time  that  I  ever  saw  you  really  out  of 
temper,  and  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it. 
Why,  you  are  positively  vindictive  to  those 
poor  people.  All  that  you  say  is  perfectly 
true, — I  have  been  conscious  of  it  without  put- 
ting it  into  words  myself;  but  you  need  not 
hate  them  for  it." 

;<  I  know  that  I  'm  horrid,"  Evelyn  returned 
penitently.  "  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  my- 
self, especially  when  I  've  just  been  eating  their 
bread  and  butter.  Don't  think  that  I  'm  bad- 
tempered  really,  and  have  been  hiding  it  from 
you.  I  'm  not  at  all;  but  they  have  been  dis- 
approving of  me,  and  it  always  upsets  me  not 
to  have  my  world  in  sympathy  with  me. 
Among  other  things,  Mrs.  Van  Horn  took  it 
upon  herself  yesterday  to  give  me  a  talking  to 
(she  felt  it  was  her  duty !)  about  not  living  with 
my  mother  and  Clara.  She  said  she  was  a 
mother  herself,  and  had  a  mother's  feelings, 
and  knew  how  she  should  feel  if  Dolly  deserted 


208       The  Things  that  Count 

her  for  finer  friends,  and  how  grateful  she 
would  feel  to  anyone  who  spoke  a  word  to  lead 
her  back  to  her.  I  let  her  talk,  and  never  dis- 
puted a  word.  That  is  all.  I  swear  off  on  the 
Van  Horns  for  the  rest  of  the  trip." 

'  We  're  nearly  there  now,"  Richard  com- 
plained. "  You  've  wasted  so  much  precious 
time!  " 

'  You  can  put  me  in  the  car  when  we  get 
there,"  said  Evelyn,  taking  no  notice  of  the 
last  part  of  his  speech. 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  take  me  home  with 
you,  and  introduce  me  to  your  family  ?  "  he 
demanded  boldly.  Evelyn  hesitated. 

"  I  have  never  taken  a  friend  to  my  home  in 
my  life,"  she  said  at  length.  "  But  I  don't  in 
the  least  mind  taking  you.  Indeed,  I  was 
thinking  of  it  a  little  while  ago.  I  should  like 
you  to  see  my  home.  One  thing, — they  will 
probably  think  you  are  my  best  young  man ; 
it  would  be  such  an  unheard-of  occurrence; 
but  we  can  live  it  down." 

!<  Don't  you  want  to  walk  ?  It  will  take 
longer,"  Richard  suggested,  as  they  got  off 
the  boat. 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I  've  been  sitting  still  all  day. 
My  bag  is  n't  too  heavy  ?  There  's  not  much 
in  it." 

"  It  does  n't  weigh  anything.     Well,  this  is 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          209 

attractive!  "  he  continued,  looking  at  the  long, 
uninteresting  street  that  stretched  out  in  front 
of  them,  lined  with  store-houses  and  grain- 
elevators. 

"  Have  you  been  here  before  ? "  asked 
Evelyn. 

"  Never,  except  through  it  on  the  train." 

"  It  's  pretty  bad,  but  not  so  bad  as  it  ap- 
pears from  that.  Pavonia  Avenue  is  n't  attract- 
ive, I  admit." 

There  had  been  some  wind  in  New  York, 
but  over  here  it  was  blowing  an  icy  gale 
directly  out  of  the  west,  straight  in  their  faces, 
charged  with  the  dust  of  travel  from  the  top  of 
the  frozen  road. 

'  This  is  too  cold  for  you.     We  '11  take  the 
car,"  said  Richard. 

Not  on  my  account.  I  don't  mind  it. 
Indeed,  it  will  do  me  good.  Probably  a  great 
part  of  my  mood  to-day  is  the  result  of  sitting 
sewing  all  the  week.  Wheugh!  This  wind  is 
cold! 

Did  you  ever  see  anything  more  dismal  ?  " 
Evelyn  asked,  a  few  minutes  later,  motioning 
to  the  line  of  one-story  saloons  and  eating- 
houses  with  pies  and  doughnuts  in  their  win- 
dows to  the  right  of  the  road. 

It  depends  on  how  expensive  a  hunger  and 
thirst  one  has.  Mine  comes  rather  high,  I 


210       The  Things  that  Count 

regret  to  say,"  he  replied.  '  But  come,  you 
have  n't  told  me  a  single  thing  about  yourself, ' ' 
he  broke  off.  '  Whom  are  you  going  South 
with,  and  how  long  are  you  going  to  stay  ?  " 

"  Two  months  probably.  I  am  going  to  be 
with  the  Armitages.  You  remember  I  went  to 
them  when  I  left  Chenook." 

'  Who  are  going  to  be  of  the  party  ?  " 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Armitage  and  the  two  girls, 
Katharine  and  Grace,  their  brother  Paul  and 
their  cousin,  the  man  I  told  you  about." 

"  Oh!  How  did  you  and  he  hit  it  off  to- 
gether last  fall  ?" 

"  Very  well  indeed.  I  have  seen  consider- 
able of  him  this  winter,  too." 

"  You  are  encouraging  him  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  discouraging  him."  He  stopped 
short  on  the  railroad  track,  which  they  were 
that  minute  crossing,  and  exclaimed: 

"  You  are  not  seriously  thinking  of  marrying 
Percy  Armitage  ?  " 

"  The  gates  are  coming  down  !  Do  you 
want  to  get  shut  in  with  a  loose  train  ?  "  ex- 
claimed Evelyn,  moving  quickly  to  the  other 
side.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  I  might  do 
worse,"  she  replied,  when  they  were  safely 
across. 

"  Oh,  undoubtedly;  but  you  might  do 
better." 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          211 

"  You  know  him  ?  "  she  asked  in  surprise. 
She  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the  coming  train 
that  she  had  not  understood  the  implication  of 
his  previous  words. 

"  Yes;  I  have  known  him  a  long  time." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  ?  Where  did  you 
know  him  ?  " 

"  I  was  in  the  same  class  at  Harvard  with  his 
brother  Stanley.  We  were  friends,  and  I  went 
home  with  him  once." 

"  I  have  always  heard  of  him,"  said  Evelyn. 
"  The  girls  say  he  was  the  most  attractive 
young  fellow.  Percy  was  devoted  to  him,  and 
has  never  quite  got  over  his  death." 

11  He  was  as  nice  a  fellow  as  I  ever  knew," 
Richard  responded.  '  His  death  was  a  great 
blow  to  many  people.  I  saw  a  good  deal  of 
Armitage  at  the  time  it  happened." 

"  And  don't  you  like  him  ?  Don't  you 
think  that  he  was  all  that  I  said  he  was  ?  " 

"  All  and  more;  but " 

"  But  you  cannot  forgive  him  for  being  such 
an  old  maid  ?  Neither  can  I,"  Evelyn  con- 
fessed honestly. 

"And  yet  you  are  letting  this  thing  go  on  ?  " 

"Not  very  hard.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  do  not 
think  that  he  will  ever  care  much  unless  I  make 
him,  and  that  is  what  I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
do." 


212       The  Things  that  Count 

"Thank  heaven  for  that!"  Richard  ex- 
claimed fervently. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  that  you  knew 
him  when  I  told  you  about  him  that  day  at 
Chenook  ?  "  Evelyn  persisted. 

"  Oh,  /was  cross  that  day.  Besides,  know- 
ing the  man,  I  knew  that  you  did  n't  seriously 
think  of  him,  but  were  just  trying  to  excite  me 
a  little ;  and  it  seemed  a  more  satisfactory  re- 
venge not  to  take  the  wind  out  of  your  sails.  I 
enjoyed  my  own  magnanimity.  Evelyn,  my 
dear  girl,  if  you  could  only  learn  the  beauty  of 
being  absolutely  straightforward,  without  any 
manoeuvres  or  wiles.  I  don't  set  up  for  a  pat- 
tern in  any  way ;  but,  just  as  a  convenient  in- 
stance, what  would  you  think  if  I  worked  Dolly, 
or  any  other  girl,  for  your  benefit  ?  Would  n't 
it  make  you  think  less  of  me  if  I  did? " 

"  I  can't  imagine  it,"  Evelyn  answered 
slowly.  "  I  should  feel  as  if  the  bottom  had 
dropped  out  of  everything  if  I  found  you  out 
in  anything  of  the  kind.  That  is  the  worst  of 
it,  in  one  sense:  if  I  see  you  playing  with  a 
girl,  I  can't  console  myself  with  the  thought 
that  it  is  all  put  on  for  my  benefit." 

"And  should  you  care?"  Richard  asked 
earnestly. 

"  Of  course.  I  'm  only  human,  after  all. 
Can  you  imagine  a  girl  like  me  not  caring  ?  " 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          213 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure,"  he  replied,  in  a  disap- 
pointed tone,  making  a  dive  for  his  hat,  which 
the  wind  was  trying  to  remove  from  his  head. 
Evelyn  was  walking  with  difficulty,  she  was  so 
tangled  up  in  her  petticoats. 

"  I  won't  do  it  any  more  with  you,"  she  said 
repentantly  a  moment  later,  when  she  had 
gathered  herself  together  from  the  gust  and 
had  pushed  the  hair  back  out  of  her  eyes.  "  I 
have  always  been  sorry  afterwards  when  I 
have  n't  been  perfectly  honest  with  you,  espe- 
cially as  I  always  suspect  you  of  seeing  through 
me,"  she  added  with  a  laugh. 

'  You  speak  as  if  there  were  going  to  be  fre- 
quent any  mores  in  our  lives,"  he  remarked. 
Evelyn  sighed. 

"  I  forgot,"  she  said  sadly.  Richard  opened 
his  mouth  as  if  to  speak,  but  closed  it  again 
without  saying  anything. 

They  had  come  to  the  place  where  the  long, 
monotonous  street  which  they  had  been  tra- 
versing gave  upon  a  square  planted  with  frozen 
grass  and  leafless  trees. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  leading  the  way  across 
it.  "  Courage  for  one  last  effort.  We  live 
only  half  a  block  from  the  other  side." 

"  If  there  were  only  a  bench  here,  we  might 
sit  down  a  little, ' '  Richard  suggested.  ' '  What 
do  you  suppose  they  have  done  with  them  ? 


214       The  Things  that  Count 

Are  they  afraid  the  Jersey  Citizens  will  chop 
them  up  for  furnace  wood,  or  don't  they  have 
any  here  ?  " 

"  I  really  don't  remember;  but  we  could  n't 
sit  down  here  to-day,  anyway,  you  practical 
person.  They  'd  run  us  into  the  morgue  in 
ten  minutes." 

"  True,"  he  answered  absently. 

She  led  the  way  to  the  fourth  of  a  row  of 
brick  houses  with  narrow  wrought-iron  bal- 
conies of  an  elaborate  pattern  across  their 
fronts.  Palmer  followed  her  in  silence  up  the 
steps.  A  large  woman  with  a  yellow  skin  and 
much-frizzled  hair  opened  the  door  for  them. 

How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Pinkerton  ?  "  said 
Evelyn,  in  the  cordial  tone  that  won  her 
friends  wherever  she  went. 

"  Well,  how  d'  do,  Miss  Smith.  It  's  a  long 
time  since  we  've  seen  yer  in  these  parts.  Cold 
day,  ain't  it  ?  Yes,  your  ma  's  at  home. 
Clara,  she  's  gone  out  with  Charley  Strong. 
Yer  ain't  seen  him  yet,  have  yer  ?  He  's 
her  latest.  Go  right  up.  She  's  expecting 
yer." 

"  Come  on  up,  Mr.  Palmer,"  said  Evelyn, 
leading  the  way  up  a  dark  flight  of  narrow 
stairs,  tolerably  clean,  so  far  as  they  could  see, 
but  saturated  with  the  odour  of  vegetable  soup. 
She  did  not  speak  again,  except  to  give  him 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          215 

warning  about  certain  irregular  steps.  At  the 
second  floor,  she  knocked  at  the  door  of  the 
front  room  and  entered  in  response  to  an  invi- 
tation from  within. 

"  Well,  Mother,  here  I  am!  "  she  said  cheer- 
fully, as  she  opened  the  door.  Two  women 
were  seated  near  the  middle  of  the  room.  One 
was  large  and  tired-looking,  with  a  face  that 
would  have  been  pleasant  if  it  had  not  looked 
so  sad.  She  looked  at  Evelyn  and  her  com- 
panion in  an  uninterested  fashion.  The  other 
was  a  thin,  vivacious  little  woman,  with  bright 
brown  eyes  and  a  nervous,  excitable  manner. 

"  Well,  Evelyn,"  said  the  latter.  "  Come 
in." 

"  Mother,  this  is  Mr.  Palmer,"  said  Evelyn. 

14  I  'm  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance, 
Mr.  Palmer.  Come  in,  won't  you  ?  You  '11 
have  to  excuse  me  for  a  minute.  I  've  just  a 
word  more  to  say  to  Mrs.  Thomas,"  she  con- 
tinued, after  she  had  introduced  them  to  her 
companion.  ;<  Now,  you  take  my  advice,"  she 
said  to  that  lady,  without  wasting  any  more 
time  in  ceremony,  "  and  you  '11  find  it  '11  all 
come  right.  A  little  harmless  amusement  will 
do  you  a  lot  of  good.  I  '11  give  you  two 
tickets  to  my  next  reading, —  at  the  Presby- 
terian church  next  Friday  evening.  It  's  going 
to  be  a  really  superior  entertainment.  Miss 


216       The  Things  that  Count 

Harris  is  going  to  sing  and  Mr.  Strong  is  going 
to  play  the  cornet.  The  tickets  are  fifty  cents 
each,  but  I  '11  let  you  have  yours  for  twenty- 
five.  You  need  n't  be  in  any  hurry  about  pay- 
ing me,  either.  By  the  way,  do  you  know,  I 
think  your  Carrie  has  some  talent  in  my  line. 
I  know  the  face.  I  can  never  be  mistaken  in 
it.  And  when  a  person  's  a  born  elocutionist 
you  can't  fool  me,  and  you  can't  make  me 
think  a  person  's  an  elocutionist  who  is  n't  one ; 
not  if  they  do  have  parlours  in  New  York,  and 
charge  a  dollar  an  hour.  I  won't  mention  any 
names,  but  probably  you  can  guess  who  I  'm 
referring  to.  Now,  I  never  think  of  asking 
more  than  fifty  cents,  and  I  always  give  over- 
time; and  yet  I  have  had  things  said  to  me 
that  would  astonish  you.  You  remember  old 
Mr.  Baxter  ?  You  never  knew  him  ?  Well, 
you  surprise  me.  I  thought  you  came  into 
the  church  before  he  left.  Well,  he  used  to 
say  to  me :  '  Mrs.  Smith,  I  think  you  are  wast- 
ing your  time  and  talents  in  Jersey  City.'  If 
he  said  it  to  me  once,  he  said  it  a  dozen  times. 
Must  you  go  ?  I  'm  so  glad  you  dropped  in! 
Come  again.  Think  of  what  I  said  about 
Carrie."  She  went  out  into  the  hall,  and  whis- 
pered to  her  companion  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  for  several  minutes. 

Richard  had  glanced  around  the  room  during 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          217 

this  monologue,  then  he  had  glanced  at  Eve- 
lyn's face;  but  it  was  absolutely  expression- 
less, so  he  looked  back  at  the  room  again. 
It  was  a  large  room,  with  an  alcove  the  size 
of  a  hall  bedroom  at  one  side.  The  curtains 
in  front  of  this,  of  red  chenille,  were  only 
partly  drawn,  and  within  could  be  seen  an 
unmade  bed  and  a  chair  covered  with  articles 
of  clothing.  The  main  part  of  the  room  was 
crowded  with  furniture,  all  very  much  in  need 
of  dusting;  but,  although  there  were  many 
chairs,  every  one  of  them  was  decorated  with 
some  article  of  feminine  wearing  apparel.  A 
black  skirt  was  on  the  back  of  Evelyn's  chair, 
and  from  under  the  sofa  on  which  he  was 
sitting  projected  a  much-worn  slipper  and  a 
rubber  overshoe.  On  one  table  was  a  pile 
of  unwashed  dishes;  on  another  was  a  sooty, 
greasy  coal-oil  stove,  which  gave  out  a  strong 
odour.  The  wash-stand,  which  was  recessed 
in  the  wall,  was  piled  high  with  sooty  pots 
and  pans.  A  loaf  of  stale  bread,  a  piece 
of  butter  on  a  wooden  plate,  two  doughnuts, 
and  half  a  lemon  pie  were  on  the  mantelpiece, 
together  with  a  pile  of  paper  books.  The 
bureau,  which  was  covered  with  a  dirty  blue 
silk  scarf,  was  strewn  with  unsightly  toilet  arti- 
cles, including  a  comb  from  which  the  hair  had 
not  been  removed.  By  the  side  of  this  was  a 


218       The  Things  that  Count 

waste-basket,  around  which,  for  the  radius  of  a 
foot,  were  scattered  crumbs,  scraps  of  paper, 
and  burnt  matches.  A  banana  skin  straddled 
the  edge  of  the  basket  itself.  Richard  did  not 
look  at  Evelyn  after  this  last  survey,  and  she 
did  not  look  at  him.  Presently  Mrs.  Smith 
returned. 

"  The  poor  creature!  "  she  said  airily,  evid- 
ently much  more  interested  in  her  late  visitor 
than  in  her  daughter  and  her  daughter's  friend. 
"  She  makes  so  much  trouble  for  herself  by 
taking  her  life  so  hard !  I  tell  her  to  take  ex- 
ample by  me.  When  she  gets  blue,  she  should 
go  out  and  amuse  herself,  as  1  do,  instead  of 
moping  in  the  house  over  a  cooking-stove.  I 
advise  her  to  join  some  clubs  and  classes — 
take  up  some  committee  work." 

"  My  mother  is  one  of  the  happiest  women  I 
know.  I  do  not  think  I  have  ever  seen  her 
depressed,"  Evelyn  said  tranquilly,  addressing 
Richard  for  the  first  time.  He  could  divine 
nothing  of  her  feelings  from  her  voice. 

"  Oh,  yes;  it  's  a  matter  of  principle  with 
me  to  be  cheerful.  It  's  just  self-indulgence 
to  give  way  to  your  moods.  Why,  everybody 
brings  their  troubles  to  me,  to  get  cheered  up. 
When  anything  bothers  you,  throw  it  off. 
Throw  yourself  into  other  people's  troubles, 
and  then  you  '11  forget  your  own.  I  'm  sure 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          219 

I  've  had  a  plenty  to  be  unhappy  about,  if  I  'd 
have  let  myself." 

"  Mrs.  Pinkerton  told  me  that  Clara  was 
out,"  Evelyn  remarked. 

"  Yes,  she  's  gone  to  walk  with  Mr.  Strong. 
She  goes  out  with  him  every  Sunday  after- 
noon." 

"  Who  is  he  ? "  asked  Evelyn. 
4  To  think  of  your  not  knowing  !     Why, 
you  surely  remember  Charley  Strong,  who  used 
to  be  in  my  Bible  class,  and  who   plays   the 
cornet  in  church  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  remember.  He  used  to  be  excess- 
ively thin,  with  an  enormously  long  neck." 

"  He  's  much  more  fleshy  than  he  used  to 
be.  He  has  filled  out  wonderfully,  and  is  very 
good-looking.  He  's  starting  out  as  a  dentist, 
and  he  's  doing  fine.  All  the  girls  are  wild 
after  him,  but  he  has  n't  any  use  for  them,  ex- 
cept Clara." 

My  sister  is  very  pretty, ' '  Evelyn  explained 
to  Richard,  who  was  sitting  there  in  a  half- 
dazed  condition,  feeling  as  if  it  were  a  dream. 
Even  Evelyn  seemed  different.  He  could  not 
project  her  in  this  strange  setting. 

;<  I  hope  that  she  will  be  in  soon,  before  I 
go,"  he  managed  to  falter  out.  He  had  been 
feeling  that  he  ought  at  least  to  make  one  re- 
mark, to  show  that  he  had  not  been  stricken 


220       The  Things  that  Count 

suddenly  dumb,  but  had  not  been  able  to  think 
of  anything  to  say. 

"  She  's  very  bright  and  talkative;  not  quiet 
like  Evelyn ;  and  such  a  little  flirt,"  Mrs.  Smith 
replied,  addressing  him  for  the  first  time. 
"  She  '11  be  in  soon.  Clara  don't  like  the  cold, 
and  she  won't  wear  flannels,  though  I  tell  her 
she  's  crazy.  If  Mr. —  What  did  you  say  your 
friend's  name  was,  Evelyn  ?  1  always  ask  right 
out,  if  I  don't  catch  the  name,"  she  explained 
to  Palmer,  with  a  smile  that  was  intended  to  be 
winning. 

"  His  name  is  Richard  Palmer,  Mother,  and 
he  was  Cyril  Perkins's  tutor  last  summer." 

"Oh,  in  my  own  line!"  Mrs.  Smith  ex- 
claimed, in  pleased  surprise.  "  I  teach  elocu- 
tion, as  doubtless  my  daughter  has  told  you." 

"  I  heard  you  say  something  about  a  read- 
ing," Palmer  remarked. 

'  Yes,  at  the  church.  I  give  them  every 
little  while." 

Have  you  made  up  your  mind  what  you 
are  going  to  recite  yet  ?  "  Evelyn  asked. 

"  Not  yet.     I  always  wait  for  an  inspiration 
It  's  sure  to  come,  though  sometimes  I  have 
gone  to  the  church  without  any  idea  what  I  was 
going  to  recite.    I  call  them  readings,  but  I  gen- 
erally recite, "  Mrs.  Smith  went  on  to  explain. 

*  How  about  that  thing  (I  forget  the  name) 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          221 

where  the  girl  kills  her  little  sister,  and  then 
suffers  remorse ;  and  the  wind  keeps  shrieking, 
'Bessie,  O  Bessie!'  (the  child's  name  was 
Bessie)  until  she  goes  mad  under  it  ?  That 
used  to  give  me  the  horrors  when  I  was  a 
child.  I  used  to  put  my  head  under  the 
clothes  on  windy  nights  so  that  I  should  not 
have  to  hear  the  wind  cry  around  the  corner, 
'  Bessie,  O  Bessie!  '  " 

'  You  always  were  a  fanciful  child.  You 
get  your  imagination  from  me,  while  Clara  is 
like  her  father:  has  n't  a  scrap.  But  that  is  an 
old  thing.  I  never  recite  that  nowadays,  ex- 
cept by  special  request." 

Loud  voices  and  laughter  were  now  heard  on 
the  stairs  and,  the  next  moment,  a  blooming 
young  woman  bounced  into  the  room,  followed 
by  a  tall,  thin  young  man.  Palmer's  first 
thought  was  to  wonder  what  the  young  man 
must  have  been  once  if  he  was  much  stouter 
than  he  used  to  be.  The  neck  was  still  ab- 
normally long:  the  more  so  that  he  did  not 
have  an  enormous  amount  of  chin  to  hide  it. 
An  exaggerated  expanse  of  collar  served  only 
to  call  attention  to  it. 

'  The  silly  thing!  He  said  he  was  afraid  of 
the  dark,  and  made  me  hold  his  hand  all  the 
way  up,"  the  young  woman  exclaimed,  before 
she  caught  sight  of  her  visitors. 


222       The  Things  that  Count 

'  Here  's  Evelyn,  Clara,"  said  her  mother. 
"  Mr.  Palmer,  let  me  make  you  acquainted 
with  my  daughter  Clara,  and  with  Mr.  Strong." 
Delighted  to  meet  you,  I  'm  sure,"  the 
young  man  with  the  neck  remarked  vaguely  to 
both  Evelyn  and  Richard. 

"  Hello,  Ev,"  said  Clara.  Richard  noticed 
that  neither  her  mother  nor  her  sister  made 
overtures  to  kiss  Evelyn ;  nor,  for  that  matter, 
did  they  seem  at  all  interested  in  her.  Evid- 
ently their  own  affairs  were  of  much  more 
consequence  to  them.  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Palmer?"  Clara  continued  easily.  "Cold  day, 
is  it  not  ?  " 

"  It  seemed  so  to  me,  and  the  paper  says 
that  it  is  going  to  be  colder  to-night.  A  cold 
wave  is  coming  from  the  west."  Richard 
managed  to  get  these  words  out. 

"  Well,  it  's  cold  enough  for  me  now.  O 
me,  O  my,  but  my  fingers  are  froze!  " 

'  Where  's  your  muff  ?  "  asked  Evelyn. 

"  Oh,  my  muff  's  so  old-fashioned.  Nobody 
wears  beaver  now,  and  it  swears  at  the  chin- 
chilla trimming  on  my  dress,"  and  Clara  looked 
with  complacency  at  her  Russian  blouse  of  a 
startling  shade  of  violet  velvet.  She  had 
pulled  her  dirty  white  gloves  off  inside  out  and 
was  shaking  the  red  fingers  that  came  out  of 
them  up  and  down  to  warm  them. 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          223 

"  I  offered  to  be  a  muff  to  her,  but  she 
would  n't  let  me,"  Mr.  Strong  remarked,  with 
a  coquettish  air. 

"  Because  you  were  one  already,"  Clara  ex- 
claimed, making  a  face  at  him.  Both  she  and 
her  mother  went  off  into  shouts  of  laughter 
over  this  retort. 

(<  She  got  you  there,  Charley,  she  got  you 
there!"  Mrs.  Smith  exclaimed,  wiping  her 
eyes  with  a  handkerchief  that  Richard  would 
have  suspected  of  having  been  used  as  a  duster, 
if  the  room  had  not  given  the  lie  to  any  such 
thought.  '  You  '11  have  to  lie  awake  nights 
to  get  ahead  of  Clara,"  she  continued,  with 
another  burst  of  laughter.  "  My  children  are 
not  stupid,  though  I  do  say  it  myself,"  she  re- 
marked, in  an  aside  to  Palmer. 

At  the  first  lull,  he  got  up  to  go.  He  could 
not  stand  any  more  of  it.  His  heart  ached  for 
Evelyn,  and  a  new  understanding  of  her  came 
to  him.  He  could  not  divine  her  thoughts  at 
the  present  moment.  She  was  apparently  per- 
fectly undisturbed  by  her  surroundings,  but  so 
quiet  and  self-contained  that  he  could  not 
realise  that  she  was  the  same  person. 

"  Come  again,  Mr.  Palmer,  now  that  you  've 
found  the  way,"  Mrs.  Smith  said  effusively. 
"  If  Evelyn  is  n't  here,  Clara  and  I  '11  do  the 
best  we  can  for  you.  We  're  not  the  rose, 


224       The  Things  that  Count 

but,  etc.  Come  some  night  to  supper.  We 
do  light  housekeeping  up  here  in  our  room, 
and  it  's  all  so  cosy  and  informal.  We  're 
thorough  Bohemians,  Clara  and  I.  I  tell 
Evelyn  she  's  quite  a  Philistine.  She  's  always 
for  tidying  up,  but  I  tell  her:  '  What  's  the 
good  ?  It  all  has  to  be  done  over  to-morrow.' 
It  's  lots  more  sensible  to  spend  the  time  im- 
proving your  mind.  Come  to  one  of  my  read- 
ings some  time,  and  I  '11  introduce  you  to  some 
of  the  young  ladies  afterwards.  They  're  only 
fifty  cents,  and  I  guess  you  '11  get  that  much 
out  of  it  anyway." 

Palmer  shook  hands  all  around,  and  then 
went  to  Evelyn,  who  had  arisen  and  was  stand- 
ing near  her  chair  with  a  smile  that  he  could 
not  fathom  on  her  face.  He  wished  unspeak- 
ably that  she  would  go  down  to  the  door  with 
him,  but  did  not  like  to  suggest  it  in  the  ab- 
sence of  any  movement  on  her  part. 

'  Will  you  let  me  know  when  you  get 
back?"  he  asked  her,  as  he  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  If  I  am  in  New  York  for  any  length  of 
time." 

'  You  go  on  Wednesday  ?  " 

'  Yes,  on  Wednesday."  Richard  could  not 
think  of  anything  further  to  say  to  this  strange, 
silent  Evelyn,  with  the  other  three  occupants 


Evelyn  Goes  Home          225 

of  the  room  listening  curiously  to  every  word 
he  uttered,  so  he  took  himself  away  with 
another  general  good-by,  fully  determined  on 
seeing  Evelyn  again  before  she  went  South. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   SMITH   PART 

THE  next  day  was  even  colder.  Evelyn's 
little  hall  bedroom,  in  which  she  kept  her 
superfluous  belongings  when  she  was  out  on 
the  road,  as  she  called  it,  was  not  heated,  and 
she  spent  the  morning  looking  over  her  posses- 
sions with  all  her  wraps  on.  Her  fingers,  which 
it  was  not  practicable  to  protect,  kept  getting 
numb,  and  every  little  while  she  would  have  to 
go  down  a  flight  to  her  mother's  room,  and 
thaw  them  out  over  the  register.  That  room, 
which  was  not  any  too  warm,  was  even  more' 
disorderly  than  it  had  been  the  day  before ;  for 
fresh  accumulations  of  dishes  littered  every 
available  resting-place,  and  a  heap  of  soiled 
clothes  occupied  the  middle  of  the  room,  in 
readiness  for  the  washerwoman  who  had  n't 
come. 

Mrs.  Smith  sat  serenely  in  the  midst  of  the 
confusion,  making  notes  of  a  talk  that  she  was 
226 


The  Smith  Part  227 

going  to  give  to  a  dramatic  society  which  she 
had  recently  organised.  She  and  Evelyn  had 
a  meagre  lunch  of  chipped  beef  and  stale  bread, 
and,  after  it  was  over,  Mrs.  Smith  started  out 
for  an  afternoon's  round  of  lessons  and  com- 
mittee meetings. 

When  she  had  gone,  Evelyn  brought  in  her 
sewing  and  sat  down  in  front  of  the  register, 
with  her  face  to  the  wall  so  that  she  need  not 
see  the  condition  of  the  room.  She  would 
have  tried  to  put  it  in  order  if  she  had  not  been 
so  short  of  time  and  if  the  room  itself  had  not 
been  so  hopeless.  Her  thoughts  were  anything 
but  pleasant.  The  atmosphere  was  so  distaste- 
ful that  she  felt  profoundly  depressed.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  simply  could  not  stand 
two  nights  and  a  day  more  of  it.  The  days 
were  bad  enough,  but  the  nights  were  worse. 
Nights  always  are  worse.  She  had  spent  the 
one  before  lying  awake  and  shivering,  in  spite 
of  all  her  wardrobe  on  top  of  her,  in  a  bed  so 
hard  that  she  became  stiff  and  lame  if  she  lay 
in  one  position  long  at  a  time.  Her  pillow 
was  so  heavy  that  it  took  two  hands  to  turn  it, 
and  the  sheets  and  pillow-cases  were  so  rough 
that  they  felt  uncomfortable  against  her  skin. 

She  felt  bitter  and  rebellious  this  afternoon, 
especially  bitter  against  those  good  people  who, 
without  knowing  what  they  were  talking  about, 


228       The  Things  that  Count 

preached  to  her  on  her  duty  to  her  family. 
She  felt  glad  that  she  had  given  Richard  a 
chance  to  see  for  himself  what  sort  of  a  life  it 
was  that  he  had  recommended  to  her.  She 
wondered  what  he  thought  of  it  all.  Had  it 
seemed  as  dreadful  to  him  as  it  did  to  her  ? 
How  easy  it  was  to  be  virtuous  and  dutiful  for 
other  people ! 

These  periods  of  depression,  which  had  been 
unknown  to  her  early  youth,  had  been  grow- 
ing upon  Evelyn  since  her  social  life — "  her 
Dr.  Jekyll  existence,"  she  called  it  to  herself, — 
had  been  becoming  less  attractive  to  her.  A 
pessimism  that  was  foreign  to  her  nature  was 
gaining  upon  her.  She  had  fought  against  it 
at  first,  but  now  she  had  ceased  to  struggle. 
The  worst  phase  of  it  was  that,  though  she  dis- 
liked intensely  her  own  life  on  both  its  sides, 
the  lives  of  other  people  did  not  seem  much 
more  desirable.  If  the  lines  of  some  one  par- 
ticular person  seemed  to  her  to  have  fallen  in 
pleasant  places,  she  found  herself  looking  out 
for  sunken  snags  and  crumpled  rose  leaves.  In 
spite  of  much  evidence  to  the  contrary,  she 
found  it  hard  to  believe  that  anyone  provided 
with  an  average  amount  of  brains  was  any  hap- 
pier at  heart  than  she  was.  She  suspected 
dissimulation  everywhere.  No  pursuit  seemed 
worth  while  any  longer. 


The  Smith  Part  229 

The  only  existence  that  presented  any  at- 
traction to  her  imagination  was  a  purely  nega- 
tive one,  in  which  she  had  nothing  to  worry  her, 
nothing  to  offend  her  taste,  absolutely  nothing 
to  do;  and,  all  the  time,  she  knew  that  such  a 
do  Ice  far  niente  existence  would  pall  upon  her  at 
the  end  of  three  days.  She  would  be  perfectly 
wretched  under  it. 

The  dreams  with  which  she  had  consoled 
and  beautified  her  childhood  no  longer  charmed 
her.  She  doubted  the  "  lived  happily  ever 
afterwards  "  part  of  them,  and  wondered,  with 
an  involuntary  but  irrepressible  cynicism,  how 
long  it  would  be  before  her  hero  would  be 
spending  his  evenings  at  the  club  and  she  be 
glad  to  have  him  go.  Evelyn  had  always  been 
of  a  constant  nature;  she  had  never  found  the 
slightest  tendency  on  the  part  of  her  feelings  to 
change  without  great  provocation  ;  and  yet  she 
found  herself  distrusting  her  own  faithfulness. 
She  took  no  personal  inclination  of  her  own 
seriously,  or  even  simply,  but  explained  it  away 
with  elaborate  self-analysis.  It  was  so  that 
she  thought  of  her  attraction  to  Richard. 

I  could  easily  be  in  love  with  him,  if  I 
wanted  to  be,"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she  sat 
there  sewing.  '  Most  girls  would  be,  with  the 
amount  of  liking  I  have  for  him.  They  are  so 
ready  to  push  themselves  over  the  edge !  They 


230       The  Things  that  Count 

have  read  and  talked  and  dreamed  so  much  of 
love  that  they  project  it  into  every  relation, 
just  as  one  constantly  sees  resemblances  in  the 
street  to  the  person  who  is  occupying  one's 
thoughts.  They  mistake  so  many  side  issues 
for  the  genuine  article — if,  indeed,  there  is  any 
genuine  article.  Perhaps  it  is  a  composite  of 
side  issues  after  all.  I  wish  I  knew.  Now,  I 
don't  love  Richard.  The  particular  feeling 
that  I  have  for  him  is  due  to  several  causes. 
Let  me  see.  In  the  first  place,  he  is  so  good 
to  look  at ;  next,  he  piques  me  by  resisting  my 
power  over  him ;  third,  he  is  a  man  whom 
other  women  fancy.  If  I  married  him,  I 
should  be  openly  pitied  for  having  married  a 
poor  man,  but  secretly  envied  for  having  made 
him  care  for  me.  Fourth,  I  like  his  manner- 
isms, his  little  ways;  fifth,  he  would  make  love 
very  nicely;  sixth,  there  is  an  atmosphere  of 
suggested  sentiment  in  the  air  when  we  are  to- 
gether that  lends  a  charm  to  him ;  seventh,  I 
like  his  being  in  love  with  me;  eighth,  I  am  in 
love  with  being  in  love.  The  possibilities  at- 
tract me,  and  intensify  my  personal  feeling. 
Ninth,  and  most  important,  we  have  grown  to 
seem  so  near  to  one  another  that  everybody 
else  feels  far  away  by  comparison.  I  feel  cold 
and  lonely  with  other  people.  The  fascination 
of  being  on  intimate  terms  with  an  attractive 


The  Smith  Part  231 

man  is  terribly  great.  Now,  unquestionably, 
these  are  all  side  issues,"  she  continued  to  her- 
self; "  but  is  there  anything  else  ?  The  feeling 
a  person's  presence  out  of  sight,  and  hearing  it 
in  the  beating  of  your  heart, — I  suppose  there  is 
such  a  thing.  If  so,  I  certainly  have  n't  it. 
Richard  has  an  immense  power  to  disturb  me, 
but  only  by  what  he  does  n't  do,  not  by  what 
he  does.  If  he  puts  his  arms  around  me,  I  do 
not  feel  a  thrill,  simply  a  sensation  of  tranquil 
content.  Yet  he  could  make  my  heart  beat  by 
neglecting  me,  by  being  interested  in  another 
girl,  by  showing  me  how  little  power  I  really 
have  over  him.  When,  for  the  moment,  I  feel 
sure  of  him,  I  care  for  him  like  a  brother. 
When  I  realise  that  I  could  n't  have  him  if  I 
wanted  him,  I  lie  awake  at  night.  I  suppose 
that  is  perversity.  When  I  am  talking  to 
other  people,  I  am  thinking  about  him.  He 
is  the  one  person  on  earth  to  me  now ;  but  how 
do  I  know  that  this  would  continue  to  be  the 
case  if  I  married  him  ?  Would  n't  the  time  be 
sure  to  come  when  I  should  have  to  en- 
tertain him  by  a  deliberate  effort,  as  I  do  the 
rest  of  my  world  nowadays,  with  the  added  dis- 
advantage that  when  it  got  unbearably  ted- 
ious I  could  n't  pack  up  my  trunks  and 
move  on  ?  Oh,  to  be  free !  I  want  that  more 
than  anything  on  earth,  and  probably  it 


232       The  Things  that  Count 

would  be  the  last  thing  that  marriage  would 
bring  me.  Is  there  really  any  freedom,  after  all  ? 
If  I  were  free  this  moment  from  earthly  obliga- 
tions and  demands,  should  n't  I  be  in  bondage 
to  the  necessities  of  my  own  nature  ?  What  on 
earth  could  I  do  with  myself,  if  I  were  released 
from  social  duties,  from  the  demands  of  my 
fellow-creatures  upon  me  ?  Nothing  but  die 
of  ennui,  so  far  as  I  see  it.  There  is  no  pos- 
sible pursuit  that  would  always  seem  to  me 
supremely  worth  while." 

At  five  o'clock,  Mrs.  Smith  broke  in  upon 
these  meditations,  her  face  purple  and  her 
teeth  chattering  with  cold. 

'  The  gas  pipe  is  frozen  at  Mrs.  Lunt's," 
she  explained;  "  so  the  gas  stove  could  n't  be 
lit,  and  the  heat  would  n't  come  up  in  her 
parlour  against  the  wind,  so  we  nearly  froze  to 
death." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  had  your 
meeting  in  an  unwarmed  room  this  day  ?  How 
perfectly  crazy!  "  exclaimed  Evelyn. 

"  There  was  no  place  else  we  could  go,  and 
we  had  to  have  the  meeting  if  we  are  to  give 
that  entertainment  on  Washington's  Birthday. 
There  is  n't  any  time  to  lose.  The  worst  of  it 
is  that  I  have  such  a  pain  in  my  side.  I  did  n't 
notice  it  until  I  got  in  the  street,  but  it  has 
been  getting  worse  all  the  way  home." 


The  Smith  Part  233 

"  It  's  probably  neuralgia.  Probably  it  will 
go  when  you  get  warm.  Here,  lie  down  on 
the  sofa,  and  I  '11  get  you  some  whiskey.  I 
have  a  little  in  my  flask."  She  moved  the 
sofa  up  in  front  of  the  register,  disclosing  a  re- 
markable collection  of  articles  and  dirt  under- 
neath it,  and  covered  her  mother  up  with  the 
blankets  off  the  bed,  which  was  still  unmade. 
Then  going  down-stairs  and  getting  some  hot 
water  from  Mrs.  Pinkerton,  she  gave  her  mother 
some  hot  whiskey  and  water  and  put  a  bottle  of 
hot  water  at  her  side.  The  pain  was  easier  for 
a  little  while,  but  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour  it 
grew  suddenly  worse,  and  presently  became  so 
intense  that  Evelyn  was  frightened.  Mrs. 
Pinkerton  came  up,  bringing  a  mustard  plaster; 
but  as  that  produced  no  relief,  the  pain  seem- 
ing to  get  worse  rather  than  better,  she  advised 
sending  for  Dr.  Gardner,  who  lived  at  the 
corner.  She  was  much  astonished  that  Evelyn 
had  never  heard  of  him.  He  was,  so  she  said, 
by  far  the  best  known  physician  in  that  part  of 
the  world. 

The  kind  woman  went  out  to  get  him  herself, 
and  fortunately  met  him  at  his  door,  just  com- 
ing home  to  supper.  He  came  back. with  her. 
Evelyn  was  relieved  to  see  his  big  figure  in  the 
doorway.  His  manner  reassured  her  still 
more. 


234       The  Things  that  Count 

'  Well,  what  have  we  here  ? "  he  asked,  in  a 
big,  kindly  voice,  cheerful,  but  not  aggressively 
so.  Evelyn's  eyes  met  the  keen  grey  ones  of 
a  big  man,  apparently  about  forty,  with  a  pleas- 
ant, clever,  clean-shaven  face.  She  felt  a  sud- 
den lessening  of  responsibility  and  anxiety. 
For  the  next  ten  minutes  he  devoted  himself 
to  his  patient,  asking  Evelyn,  in  an  impersonal 
way,  for  a  glass  of  water,  a  towel,  and  what- 
ever else  he  needed.  Presently  he  rose  and 
turned  his  keen  eyes  on  her. 

"  Who  's  the  nurse  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  I  am,"  she  answered. 

"  What  are  you  to  this  good  lady  ?  "  he  de- 
manded next. 

"  Daughter,"  she  returned  shortly,  feeling 
that  brevity  would  please  him.  He  looked 
surprised,  and  cast  a  quick  glance  at  her  appear- 
ance and  then  at  the  unsightly  surroundings. 

"  You  understand  your  mother's  constitu- 
tion ?  Any  peculiarities  that  I  ought  to  know 
about?" 

"  I  do  not  know  of  any ;  but  I  have  not  lived 
with  my  mother  since  I  was  a  child.  I  came 
here  only  yesterday." 

"  So.    .Well,  we  shall  have  to  go  it  blind." 

"  My  sister  will  know.  She  has  just  come 
in.  I  hear  her  talking  to  Mrs.  Pinkerton  in  the 
hall."  He  looked  at  her  still  more  curiously 


The  Smith  Part  235 

when  Clara  came  in,  in  her  usual  accentuated 
attire. 

"  You  had  better  go  out  and  get  some  sup- 
per," Evelyn  said  to  her  in  a  low  voice,  when 
she  had  answered  the  Doctor's  inquiries,  and  he 
had  turned  again  to  his  patient.  Clara  was 
thoroughly  frightened  and  awed,  and  left  the 
room  without  another  word. 

"  Are  you  used  to  illness  ?  "  the  Doctor  fired 
at  Evelyn,  a  moment  later. 

"No,  but  I  am  capable,  and  can  do  what  I 
am  told  to  do." 

"  Are  you  strong  ?  " 

"  Very.  I  have  never  been  ill  a  day  since 
I  was  a  child,  and  I  am  used  to  hard  work." 

"  What  kind  of  hard  work  ?  "  he  demanded, 
in  the  same  impersonal  manner. 

"  I  can  bicycle  all  morning,  swim  for  an  hour 
at  noon,  golf  all  the  afternoon,  and,  it  may  be, 
dance  half  the  night  without  being  perceptibly 
the  worse  for  it  the  next  day." 

'  That 's  more  than  I  can  do.  We  don't  go 
in  for  sport  in  Jersey  City,"  he  added  dryly. 
Evelyn  felt  that  he  suspected  her  of  putting 
on  airs,  and  felt  uncomfortable;  the  more  so 
that  she  knew  that  she  had  been  trying  to  im- 
press him  with  her  separate  existence  from  the 
unattractive  one  around  her. 

"  Well,  that  's  not  to  the  point,"  he  went 


236       The  Things  that  Count 

on  abruptly.  "  Your  mother  is  very  ill,  I  am 
afraid.  Pleurisy  certainly,  and  I  suspect  other 
complications.  Her  system  is  very  much  run 
down,  and  was  ready  for  anything.  It  was 
only  a  question  of  what  got  in  ahead.  I  guess 
she  has  n't  been  taking  proper  care  of  herself: 
living  on  tea  and  things  of  that  sort."  He 
glanced  at  a  sardine  can  on  the  mantelpiece. 

My  mother  would  always  live  irregularly, 
no  matter  how  she  was  situated.  She  hates 
routine,"  Evelyn  explained. 

"  I  suspected  as  much.  Well,  I  am  going 
to  send  some  medicine  around  in  a  few  min- 
utes. There  will  full  directions  come  with  it ; 
but  there  are  besides  a  number  of  things  that 
I  want  to  explain  to  you."  She  went  over  to 
the  mantelpiece  and  dug  out  a  piece  of  paper 
and  a  pencil  without  any  point.  The  Doctor 
handed  her  his,  and  then  went  on  to  give  her 
directions  about  what  she  was  to  do.  She  was 
struck  with  the  minuteness  with  which  he  went 
into  every  detail.  He  took  nothing  for  granted. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  length,  after  a  few  patt- 
ing words  to  Mrs.  Smith,  4<  get  that  good 
woman  (what  did  you  say  her  name  was  ? — 
Mrs.  Pinkerton  ?)  to  help  you  get  your  mother 
to  bed.  She  seems  to  have  some  savey.  I  '11 
be  in  in  the  morning  very  early,  and  you  can 
send  for  me  in  the  night  if  she  gets  worse. 


The  Smith  Part  237 

The  medicine  will  quiet  the  pain  before  long, 
I  hope."  Evelyn  followed  him  into  the  hall. 

"  Is  there  danger?"  she  asked,  in  an  un- 
steady voice. 

"  Not  immediate  danger.  Of  course,  you  can 
never  tell  what  complications  may  not  develop 
in  serious  cases  like  this;  and  your  mother's 
condition  is  against  her." 

"I  have  never  known  of  her  being  ill,"  said 
Evelyn. 

"  Has  she  taken  much  medicine?  dosed 
much  ?" 

"  I  think  not.  She  believed  in  some  kind 
of  mental  healing  for  a  time." 

41  Then  she  will  probably  respond  readily  to 
treatment.  I  shall  try  strong  measures.  We 
will  leave  nothing  undone."  He  held  out  his 
hand  to  Evelyn,  with  the  first  smile  with  which 
he  had  honoured  her. 

In  spite  of  the  discouraging  nature  of  his 
words,  Evelyn  felt  encouraged.  There  was 
such  a  sense  of  power  about  the  man  that  she 
put  her  faith  in  him  implicitly.  She  liked  it 
that  he  had  made  no  extravagant  protestations 
of  what  he  would  do  for  her  mother.  He  gave 
the  impression  of  possessing  such  an  excess  of 
vitality  that  she  felt  he  could  hand  over  a  sup- 
ply to  his  patients,  if  necessary,  and  still  have 
more  than  most  people. 


238       The  Things  that  Count 

That  night,  the  first  she  had  ever  spent  by  a 
sick-bed,  seemed  terribly  long  to  Evelyn,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  she  had  something  to  do 
for  her  mother  every  five  minutes.  She  had 
sent  Clara,  who  was  unpractical  as  well  as  in- 
experienced, to  bed  in  her  room.  At  one,  kind 
Mrs.  Pinkerton  came  in  with  some  hot  coffee 
and  toast  which  she  had  made,  and  stayed  with 
Evelyn  as  long  as  she  would  let  her.  She  had 
lighted  a  fire  in  the  fireplace,  by  the  Doctor's 
order,  and  with  that  and  the  coal-oil  stove  did 
her  best  to  keep  the  room  warm.  Mrs.  Smith 
suffered  a  great  deal.  The  opiates  which  she 
had  taken,  while  they  did  not  stop  the  pain, 
affected  her  head  a  little,  so  that  she  moaned 
and  muttered  to  herself  in  the  most  distressing 
way.  Towards  morning  the  pain  grew  worse, 
and  Evelyn  was  thinking  that  she  would  have 
to  wake  Clara  to  go  for  the  Doctor,  when  he 
came  in.  It  was  only  six  o'clock. 

"  I  was  afraid  of  this,"  he  said  in  his  deep, 
strong  voice,  without  one  discordant  note  in  it, 
when  he  had  looked  at  Mrs.  Smith  and  heard 
Evelyn's  report  of  the  night.  '  You  will  have 
to  have  someone  to  help  you,"  he  went  on, 
when  he  had  taken  Mrs.  Smith's  temperature 
and  felt  her  pulse.  '  You  must  have  a  nurse." 

"It  is  impossible,"  Evelyn  replied  firmly. 
"  We  have  not  the  money  to  pay  her.  Mrs. 


The  Smith  Part  239 

Pinkerton  has  offered  to  take  care  of  her  in  the 
afternoon,  and  let  me  sleep." 

"  Can't  your  sister  help  ?  " 

"  She  can't  leave  her  work.  She  would  lose 
her  place,  and  the  money  is  very  important 
now.  Besides,  she  would  not  be  of  any  use. 
She  would  mean  to  do  well,  but  she  is  careless 
and  irresponsible." 

"  What  does  she  do  ?" 

"  She  is  cashier  of  a  candy  store  on  Eighth 
Avenue." 

"  Do  you  earn  your  own  living  ?  " 

"  I  do  not." 

"  How  do  you  manage  to  golf  and  amuse 
yourself  all  day  and  dance  all  night  then  ? " 

Evelyn  could  not  bring  herself  to  say,  "  I 
visit."  It  sounded  too  hopelessly  inadequate 
as  a  scheme  of  existence,  and  she  could  not 
think  of  anything  else  to  say;  so,  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  she  replied  rather  coldly: 

"  I  do  not  see  that  this  matters." 
'  Perhaps  not.     I  simply  wished  to  be  sure 
that  a  professional  nurse  was  an  impossibility." 
I  have  just  twenty  dollars  in  the  world  and 
some  clothes,  which,  while  they  are  valuable  to 
me,  would  hardly  bring  much.     My  mother  has 
very  little,  except  what  she  earns  by  giving  elo- 
cution lessons  and  readings,  and  that,  of  course, 
stops  now.     We  are  hopelessly  impecunious. 


240       The  Things  that  Count 

You  do  well  to  be  anxious  about  your  bill." 
The  Doctor  smiled. 

"  I  am  not  anxious  about  that,"  he  answered 
indifferently.  Evidently,  he  was  impervious  to 
small  shafts. 

That  day  and  the  following  night  were  criti- 
cal. Evelyn  did  not  take  her  clothes  off  at  all. 
The  Doctor  came  every  two  hours,  and  did 
everything  that  human  skill  could  do  to  relieve 
the  patient's  suffering.  Evelyn  felt  thankful 
for  her  own  neat-handed  ways  when  she  saw 
the  skilled  accuracy  with  which  he  made  every 
movement.  He  would  not  have  been  lenient 
with  inefficiency.  Wednesday  morning  there 
was  a  decided  improvement,  and  he  ventured 
to  predict  that  they  would  pull  her  through  if 
nothing  unforeseen  occurred.  The  greatest 
care  would  be  necessary  for  some  time,  how- 
ever. 

Tuesday  afternoon,  Evelyn  sent  a  telegram 
to  the  Armitages,  saying  that  she  could  not  go 
with  them.  She  wrote  it  on  a  scrap  of  paper, 
and  asked  the  Doctor  to  copy  it  on  a  blank  and 
send  it  off  for  her,  as  she  had  no  one  else  to 
send.  She  addressed  it  to  Mr.  Armitage  at  his 
office,  as  there  was  some  uncertainty  as  to 
where  the  women  of  the  family  would  be  that 
night.  She  was  not  sorry  that  the  Doctor 
should  read  it.  G.  A.  Armitage,  of  Wall 


The  Smith  Part  241 

Street,  was  well  known  even  to  obscure  doc- 
tors in  small  cities. 

Mrs.  Smith  continued  to  get  belter  on  Thurs- 
day ;  but  on  Friday  inflammatory  rheumatism 
set  in. 

"  I  have  been  expecting  something  of  the 
sort,"  the  Doctor  said,  when  he  arrived.  "I  am 
afraid  that  you  are  going  to  have  your  hands 
full,  young  woman." 

And  so  it  proved.  Mrs.  Smith's  constitution 
had  at  last  rebelled  against  the  years  of  irreg- 
ular, comfortless  living  to  which  she  had  sub- 
jected it.  When  April  came,  Evelyn  was  still 
at  her  post.  Her  mother  was  better,  but  not 
yet  out  of  bed,  and  Dr.  Gardner  still  came 
once  a  day. 

16 


CHAPTER    XIII 

RICHARD   RECEIVES  A   BLOW 

THE  condition  of  her  mother's  room  was  a 
continual  nightmare  to  Evelyn.  She 
kept  it  in  perfect  order,  and  as  clean  as  she 
could,  with  a  carpet  full  of  the  dirt  of  years  on 
the  floor.  Towards  the  end  of  April,  she 
planned  a  great  undertaking.  Dr.  Gardner, 
when  consulted,  thoroughly  approved,  though 
he  protested  against  Evelyn's  doing  the  heavy 
work  herself.  Accordingly,  one  Saturday  after- 
noon, Mrs.  Smith  was  moved  into  the  back 
room  on  the  same  floor,  which  was  temporarily 
vacant,  and  of  which  Mrs.  Pinkerton  was  kind 
enough  to  lend  them  the  use. 

The  carpet  was  disposed  of  to  the  man  who 
shovelled  snow  off  the  sidewalk,  for  the  taking 
it  up  and  a  little  assistance.  Sunday  morning, 
at  dawn,  Evelyn  went  to  work,  turning  her 
mother  over  to  Clara  for  the  entire  day.  The 
curtains  were  taken  down  and  burned.  The 
242 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      243 

walls,  which  were  the  best  feature  in  the  room, 
the  paper  being  unobtrusive,  and  even  rather 
pretty,  were  brushed  down.  The  bedding  was 
taken  out  on  the  clothes-line  and  beaten.  The 
floor  was  scrubbed  with  hot  soapsuds,  the  wood- 
work rubbed  up,  the  mantel  and  wash-stand 
sapolioed,  the  windows  washed. 

At  two  o'clock  Evelyn  threw  herself  flat  on 
the  bed,  on  which  the  mattress  had  just  been 
replaced,  and  looked  around  her  with  a  sigh  of 
satisfaction.  Outside  was  a  beautiful  spring 
day,  and  through  the  open  window  the  fragrant 
air  stole  unobstructed  into  the  room.  The 
elms  on  the  sidewalk  were  covered  with  blos- 
soms, and  the  woodbine  was  budding  around 
the  window-frames.  She  was  horribly  tired, 
but  happy  with  the  sense  of  having  accom- 
plished something  which  she  had  long  desired. 
She  had  lain  there  ten  minutes,  too  tired  to 
move,  when  a  knock  came  at  the  door.  She 
called  out  "Come  in."  The  door  opened,  and 
Richard  appeared  around  the  corner  of  the 
alcove. 

'  Your  landlady  sent  me  up.  She  told  me 
what  you  were  doing,  and  all  your  family  his- 
tory. Why  did  n't  you  let  me  know  that  you 
were  here,  and  that  Mrs.  Smith  had  been  so 
ill  ?  "  he  demanded  indignantly. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  without 


244       The  Things  that  Count 

moving  from  her  prostrate  position.  "  There 
was  n't  any  particular  reason  for  telling  you ; 
that  was  all.  Come  and  sit  down  by  me. 
Excuse  me  if  I  don't  get  up.  Well,  how  are 
you  ?  Are  n't  you  going  to  shake  hands  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  have  a  general  sense  of 
being  angry  at  you,  which  it  will  probably  take 
me  a  couple  of  minutes  to  work  out  of.  Here, 
do  let  me  put  that  pillow  under  your  head! 
You  look  so  very  much  as  if  you  were  laid 
out!  "  He  looked  down  at  her  with  a  kindly 
smile  after  he  had  arranged  the  pillow  ;  then 
he  took  one  of  her  hands  in  his  and  shook 
it.  '  Dear  me,  how  deliciously  dirty  you 
are!"  he  exclaimed,  still  holding  her  hand, 
and  gazing  at  it  with  an  amused  expression. 
"  I  suppose  it  was  white  originally,  though 
you  'd  never  suspect  it.  And  your  face  has 
such  a  fascinating  smudge  on  your  forehead, 
and  one  on  your  left  cheek,  and  your  hair 
looks  like  a  haystack,  and  your  gown  as  if  you 
had  been  digging  clams  in  it." 

;<  Don't  make  fun  of  me!  "  Evelyn  protested, 
trying  to  smile,  while  the  tears  came  into  her 
eyes  at  the  affection  in  his  tone. 

"  I  am  overjoyed  to  see  you  like  this.  Do 
you  know,  much  as  I  like  to  see  women  careful 
in  their  dress,  I  used  to  resent  your  unvarying 
immaculateness.  It  was  too  perfect,  too 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      245 

suggestive  of  much  thought.  I  love  you  this 
way.  I  kiss  your  dirty  hand  with  the  greatest 
pleasure." 

"  Don't,  Richard,  don't!"  Evelyn  protested. 
"  You  don't  know  what  germs  there  may  be 
on  it.  I  '11  wager  there  were  millions  on  this 
dirty,  dirty  floor.  I  wish  they  were  clean,  but 
I  'm  too  tired  to  get  up  and  wash  them." 

"  Let  me  do  it  for  you."  A  paper  basin 
was  standing  on  the  mantelpiece.  He  filled 
it  with  warm  water  at  the  wash-stand,  and 
brought  it  over  to  the  bed,  together  with  some 
soap  and  a  nail  brush. 

'  There  is  n't  any  towel,  but  my  handker- 
chief will  do,"  he  said,  setting  the  ba^in  down 
beside  her.  ;<  Now  give  us  a  paw,  old  fellow." 
He  went  gravely  and  deliberately  to  work  to 
wash  her  hands,  apparently  completely  ab- 
sorbed in  what  he  was  doing. 

'  There  is  one  tremendous  advantage  women 
have  over  men,"  Evelyn  began  presently. 

"  What  is  that  ?" 

The  power  to  do  more  than  one  thing  at 
a  time.  Now,  I  could  scrub  your  hands  and 
entertain  you  at  the  same  time,  without  an 
atom  of  difficulty;  and  I  should  do  it  just  as 
well,  too,  so  you  need  not  make  any  objections 
on  that  score.  I  have  always  noticed  the 
difference.  You  know,  they  say  that  Queen 


246       The  Things  that  Count 

Elizabeth  could  dictate  letters  in  six  different 
languages  to  six  different  secretaries  at  the 
same  time.  I  am  sure  that  Henry  the  Eighth 
could  n't." 

"  Do  you  believe,  that  yarn  ?" 

'  To  be  honest,  no.  Probably  she  once 
dictated  a  French  and  an  English  one  at  the 
same  time,  and  the  story  has  grown  from  that." 

'  My  dear  girl,  don't  you  know  that  it  is  just 
the  masculine  concentration  on  the  business  in 
hand  that  has  made  us  get  there  ?  It  is  an  ex- 
cellent habit  to  acquire,  my  child.  There!  I 
think  they  are  tolerably  clean,"  he  added,  dry- 
ing her  hands  finger  by  finger  on  his  handker- 
chief, arid  spreading  it  out  to  dry  on  the 
foot-board  of  the  bed.  He  took  away  the 
basin,  and  then  came  back  and  sat  down  again. 
'  What  are  you  going  to  do  next  ?  "  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Nothing,  except  dust  the  blinds.  I  am 
going  to  do  nothing  else  to-day.  Mother 
can't  be  moved  back  until  day  after  to-morrow, 
for  fear  of  the  floor's  not  being  perfectly  dry." 

"  I  will  dust  the  blinds.  Just  tell  me  how 
you  want  it  done." 

"  Not  if  it  means  that  you  can't  talk  to  me." 

"  I  think  my  intellect  will  be  equal  to  both. 
Where  's  your  duster  ?  " 

There,  hanging  on  that  far  blind.     It  's  a 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     247 

clean  one,  and  has  kerosene  on  it,  so  I  hope 
that  you  don't  dislike  the  odour.  The  blinds 
have  had  a  rough  dusting,  but  I  want  you  to 
poke  the  duster  between  all  the  slats  and  get 
every  speck  off.  Here,  lift  them  off,  and  rest 
them  against  the  window-frame  so,  and  then 
you  can  sit  here  on  the  bed  and  talk  to  me 
while  you  do  it." 

*  That  's  dead  easy.  This  is  fun.  How 
nice  and  shiny  they  look!" 

'  Wait  until  you  get  through.  You  see, 
there  are  twelve  blinds,  and  four  shutters  on 
each  one." 

"  The  more  the  better.  Now  tell  me  about 
your  mother.  I  can  listen,  if  I  can't  talk." 
Evelyn  began  to  laugh. 

'  Excuse  me;  I  can't  help  it.  You  do  that 
in  such  a  terribly  painstaking  way,"  she  apolo- 
gised. 

"  Well,  would  n't  you  ?" 

I  'd  take  pains,  but  I  would  n't  make  it  so 
evident.  Perfection  without  the  appearance 
of  effort  is  my  motto." 

Perfection !  There  's  nothing  modest 
about  you.  But,  come;  stop  making  fun  of 
me.  I  want  to  hear  about  Mrs.  Smith." 
Evelyn  gave  him  a  short  account  of  her  ex- 
periences for  the  last  two  months. 

And  how  do  you  feel  about  it  ?     I  suppose 


248       The  Things  that  Count 

you  did  n't  like  it  ?  "  he  asked,  when  she  had 
finished. 

"  Like  it  !  I  have  hated  it  every  second, 
except  for  a  few  brief  ones  like  the  present, 
when  I  have  been  elated  with  a  sense  of 
achievement.  It  was  nothing  but  a  fear  of 
my  own  conscience  that  has  kept  me  here.  I 
knew  that  it  would  be  perfectly  impossible  for 
me  to  enjoy  myself  anywhere  else.  Besides, 
there  has  n't  been  anybody  else  to  do  it.  Do 
you  know,  Richard — I  suppose  I  am  terribly 
depraved — but  I  have  resented  it  dreadfully 
having  to  do  this  thing.  It  is  n't  as  if  I  had 
ever  owed  anything  to  my  mother,  beyond  my 
bare  life;  and  that  was  not  given  me  with  any 
thought  of  my  good.  She  was  only  too  glad 
to  turn  me  over  to  the  first  person  who  wanted 
me,  and  she  neglected  me  before  that.  Her 
own  children  were  allowed  to  go  dirty  and  un- 
cared  for  while  she  busied  herself  about  the 
real  or  imaginary  needs  of  other  people.  Now 
that  you  have  seen  my  home,  I  don't  think 
you  can  blame  me  for  doing  what  Mrs.  Van 
Horn  calls  '  deserting  my  mother.' ' 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  Richard  said  warmly,  poking 
his  duster  into  a  particularly  dirty  corner  with 
a  hairpin  which  Evelyn  handed  him. 

"  It  is  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  live  with 
my  family,"  she  went  on,  speaking  freely  on 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      249 

the  subject  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  "And 
they  do  not  want  it,  any  more  than  I.  I  try 
my  best  to  be  as  little  critical  as  possible;  but 
they  resent  my  difference  from  themselves,  and 
feel  my  presence  a  restraint.  They  do  not  take 
the  slightest  interest  in  my  concerns,  and  they 
do  not  recognise  my  standards.  Clara  thinks 
that  the  girls  in  her  candy  store  are  much 
higher  authorities  in  manners  and  fashions 
than  I  am.  She  asked  me  the  other  day  why 
I  did  n't  do  my  hair  in  a  certain  exaggerated 
style,  saying  that  it  was  all  the  rage,  and  my 
way  of  doing  it  was  so  dowdy.  I  told  her  of 
several  women  who  do  it  the  way  I  do,  but 
their  names  meant  nothing  to  her.  She  does 
not  read  the  papers.  It  is  hard  for  us  to  find 
subjects  to  talk  about,  so  sometimes  I  tell  them 
a  little  about  the  grandeurs  in  which  I  have 
been  a  humble  participant;  but  it  always  turns 
out  that  Mrs.  Lunt's  cousin  or  Mamie  Atkins's 
aunt  has  something  twice  as  grand.  If  my 
great  lady  has  four  men-servants,  Mrs.  Lunt's 
cousin  has  eight.  I  told  them  about  the  Van 
Horn  hothouses,  but  Mamie  Atkins's  aunt  has 
a  whole  farm  roofed  in.  Oh,  it  is  dreadful 
having  a  family  whom  you  can't  impress!  "  she 
exclaimed,  with  a  laugh  in  which  Richard  did 
not  join.  His  face  looked  very  grave.  ' '  Don't 
work  so  hard ;  you  make  me  nervous ! "  she 


250       The  Things  that  Count 

broke  out,  trying  to  pull  the  duster  away  from 
him.  He  calmly  unclasped  her  hand  and 
moved  the  duster  out  of  her  reach. 

"  Perfection  with  effort  is  my  motto,"  he 
said.  "  By  the  way,  Evelyn,  speaking  of  the 
Van  Horns,  what  have  you  done  to  Lucia  ?  " 
He  did  not  look  at  her  as  he  asked  this 
question. 

"  I  done  to  Lucia  ?"  she  exclaimed,  sitting 
up  straight  and  trying  not  to  let  her  voice 
sound  conscious. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  be  in  her  good  graces." 
'  What  did  she  say  about  me  ? "  she  de- 
manded. 

"  It  was  a  general  impression  she  gave  me." 
'  You  can't  get  out  of  it  that  way.  Tell  me 
what  she  said." 

"  I  don't  want  to.  I  don't  want  to  make 
trouble  between  you.  I  am  not  a  person  who 
repeats  things." 

"  You  won't  make  any  more  than  there  is. 
I  know  what  the  matter  is,  and  I  insist  on  your 
telling  we  what  she  said.  Then  I  will  explain 
her  point  of  view  to  you, —  not  otherwise." 

"  Very  well,  then,  she  said — "  He  paused 
and  then  broke  out:  "  Oh,  I  can't  tell  you,  I 
simply  won't  do  it !  " 

"  How  bad  it  must  be!  Suppose  I  tell  you, 
then  ?  She  said  that  I  was  a  common, 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      251 

unrefined  woman,  and  used  some  other  adjec- 
tives of  that  nature." 

"  Tell  me  how  you  know,"  he  said. 

"  Listen  here,"  and  Evelyn  gave  him  a  short 
account,  in  very  general  terms,  of  the  mischief 
she  had  got  into  that  snowy  afternoon. 

"  Was  that  all  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  relieved  tone 
when  she  had  finished  her  little  story. 

"  Yes,  all.  Does  it  seem  an  inadequate  rea- 
son to  you  for  her  feeling  ?  It  would  n't  if 
you  had  ever  been  a  young  girl  of  her  type.  I 
am  not  like  her,  but  I  should  have  loathed  a 
woman  who  did  such  a  thing  to  me  when  I  was 
sixteen.  I  was  different  by  the  time  I  was 
Lucia's  age.  It  is  funny  that  such  a  little 
thing  should  have  spoiled  a  friendship.  It 
has,  however;  for,  apart  from  her  attitude,  I 
shall  never  be  comfortable  with  her  again.  I 
only  wish  that  I  had  realised  the  consequences 
beforehand.  That  is  the  true  reason  why  I 
was  so  vindictive  against  the  whole  family  the 
last  time  I  saw  you." 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  relieved  I  am,"  he 
replied,  getting  up  and  exchanging  a  clean 
blind  for  a  dirty  one. 

Is  that  why  you  have  let  me  so  severely 
alone  ?  "  she  demanded. 

'  How  could  I  do  anything  else,  when  I 
had  n't  an  idea  where  you  were  ?  " 


252       The  Things  that  Count 

But  your  silence  was  n't  just  an  ordinary 
one:  it  was  significant. " 

4  What  nonsense!"  he  exclaimed  with  a 
laugh,  in  which  Evelyn  had  to  join. 

"  All  the  same,  there  is  a  terrible  difference 
in  silences,"  she  persisted. 

'  The  difference  is  generally  only  to  one 
person  of  the  two  involved,"  he  objected. 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,"  she  admitted.  "  But  this 
time  there  was  a  certain  quality  in  it  that  was 
appreciable  to  both.  I  knew  by  intuition  that 
something  was  the  matter.  But  how  did  you 
know  that  I  was  here  ?  "  she  broke  off,  evid- 
ently struck  by  the  thought  for  the  first  time. 

"  I  did  n't.  I  could  n't  stand  it  any  longer, 
and  I  came  over  to  get  your  address  from  your 
mother.  I  did  n't  know  her  number  or  her 
initials,  so  I  could  n't  write;  but  I  knew  that 
I  should  recognise  the  house  when  I  saw  it  by 
the  gorgeous  paper  ladies  in  the  first  floor 
windows." 

"  But  you  have  n't  answered  my  question," 
Evelyn  persisted. 

Let  me  tell  you  about  it — may  I  ?"  he 
asked  appealingly.  '  You  are  not  like  most 
women,  with  the  eternal  chip  on  their  shoulders, 
and  it  won't  seem  so  unforgivable  to  you  that 
I  should  doubt  you  vaguely.  As  if  they 
did  n't  do  any  doubting  themselves!  "  he 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      253 

remarked  parenthetically.  Evelyn  nodded  con- 
sent, and  he  continued:  "  I  don't  know  that  I 
should  have  believed  any  definite  charge  against 
you  without  going  to  you  with  it ;  but  a  general 
accusation  of  this  kind,  coming  from  a  truthful, 
honourable,  pure-minded  girl  like  Lucia,  fright- 
ened me.  I  could  n't  believe  it;  but  I  was 
ready  to  doubt  the  evidence  of  my  own  senses, 
to  think  that  I  had  been  a  fool  and  that  you 
had  been  playing  a  part.  Of  course,  I  did  n't 
really  think  that;  but  the  possibility  kept  dart- 
ing into  my  head  at  uncomfortable  moments. 
When  I  left  her  that  Sunday  afternoon,  I  fully 
intended  coming  over  here  the  next  evening 
and  having  it  out  with  you.  I  was  going  to 
carry  you  off  your  feet,  and  make  you  feel  that 
it  was  better  to  be  poor  and  my  wife  than  to 
have  a  million  in  your  own  right.  I  have  felt 
so  strongly  the  growing  detachment  in  you 
from  mere  possessions,  and  I  felt  that  you  only 
needed  to  be  shown  a  better  life  to  turn  to  it 
eagerly.  I  felt  that  I  could  help  you,  that  we 
could  help  each  other  to  become  anything  we 
wished.  I  felt  that  your  home  accounted  fully 
for  anything  that  I  had  criticised  in  you.  It 
was  n't  anything  you  said  that  day  (indeed, 
you  were  decidedly  out  of  temper),  but  it  was 
something  in  your  manner.  I  felt  that  we 
were  very  near  to  one  another  if  we  would  only 


254      The  Things  that  Count 

let  go  of  our  pride  and  acknowledge  it.  Well, 
on  the  way  back,  I  discovered  that  I  had  left 
my  umbrella  at  the  Van  Horns',  and  that 
evening  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  go  back  and  get 
it,  although  I  was  extremely  indisposed  to  any 
company  but  my  own  thoughts.  Dolly  had 
gone  to  do  her  duty  to  the  family  pew  at 
church  and  Mrs.  Van  Horn  to  bed,  so  I  found 
Lucia  all  alone."  He  paused  for  a  minute. 

"  Go  on,"  Evelyn  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Well,  I  was  so  full  of  you  that  it  pleased 
me  to  hear  the  sound  of  your  ugly  name,  so  I 
introduced  the  subject.  I  expected  to  be  met 
with  enthusiasm ;  but  instead,  to  my  great  sur- 
prise, she  broke  into  a  perfect  tirade  against 
you,  said  you  were  no  lady,  and  a  lot  of  other 
things.  I  tried  to  get  her  to  particularise,  but 
I  could  get  nothing  out  of  her  that  was  n't  very 
general." 

'The  poor  child!"  exclaimed  Evelyn. 
"  Probably  there  was  a  little  jealousy  in  it, 
too, —  of  your  interest  in  me,"  she  added  in  an 
impersonal  tone. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  had  n't 
thought  of  it;  but  as  I  am  the  first  man  she 
has  ever  known,  poor  girl,  it  would  n't  be  in- 
conceivable. W7ell,  I  was  excessively  put  out, 
and  I  took  no  pains  to  hide  it ;  and  then  she 
made  some  still  stronger  statements,  all  in  the 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     255 

same  line.  I  confess  I  was  staggered.  I  could 
n't  see  any  earthly  reason  why  she  should 
make  up  such  charges  out  of  whole  cloth." 

11  How  did  it  end  ?  "  Evelyn  asked. 

"  I  hurried  off  just  before  it  was  time  for 
Dolly,  and  I  have  n't  been  there  since.  I 
did  n't  really  believe  it,  but  I  did  n't  come 
over  here  the  next  day,  and  it  has  kept  me 
silent  all  this  time.  Can  you  forgive  me  ?" 
He  took  her  hand  in  his.  He  had  stopped  his 
work  at  the  beginning  of  his  story. 

"  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  had  anything  to  forgive; 
but  I  '11  say  so,  if  you  like." 

"  But  why,  then,  do  you  seem  so  remote  ? 
You  are  not  so  near  me  as  you  were  that  other 
day.  I  have  felt  a  sense  of  detachment  ever 
since  the  first  moment  I  saw  you ;  but  you 
did  n't  know  about  this  then.  Is  it  that  you 
have  blamed  me  for  my  silence  ?  " 

"  I  have  hardly  thought  of  it,"  Evelyn 
answered  honestly.  "  No,  Richard;  I  don't 
resent  your  attitude  in  any  way.  I  don't  see 
how  you  could  have  helped  having  misgivings, 
with  all  the  bad  things  that  you  know  about 
me.  I  am  not  a  woman  in  whom  one  could 
have  faith  blindly.  It  is  not  true,  however: 
not  at  all.  I  have  told  you  the  absolute  truth. 
Whatever  faults  I  have,  unrefinement  is  not 
one  of  them.  I  hate  it  with  every  fibre  of  me, 


256       The  Things  that  Count 

and  that  is  the  chief  reason  why  my  present 
life  is  so  distasteful.  I  don't  see  how  you 
could  have  helped  realising  that  for  yourself." 

"  I  did,  and  that  was  why  I  was  so  com- 
pletely at  sea.  It  seemed  so  impossible  to  as- 
sociate the  idea  of  unrefinement  with  you  ;  and 
yet  I  could  n't  see  how  Lucia  could  have 
slipped  up  on  it  so.  You  said  that  you  did  n't 
resent  my  attitude,  but  you  were  going  to  add 
a'  but.'  What  was  it  ?" 

"It  is  simply  that  it  has  made  a  differ- 
ence that  will  probably  affect  both  our  lives. 
Then  you  could  have  made  me  do  anything  in 
heaven  or  earth  that  you  wanted  me  to,  if  you 
had  only  put  enough  fervour  into  it;  now  — 
you  are  right  —  I  am  detached  from  you,"  she 
broke  off. 

"  Has  another  influence  come  into  your 
life  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

Evelyn  did  not  answer.  She  was  listening 
to  steps  on  the  stairs  with  a  look  of  eager  ex- 
pectation on  her  face  that  Richard  had  never 
seen  there  before.  He  knew  the  answer  to  his 
question  before  the  door  opened,  after  a  per- 
functory knock,  and  Dr.  Gardner  stood  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed. 

"Well,  this  is  a  house-cleaning!"  he  ex- 
claimed in  his  deep,  pleasant  voice,  looking 
around  the  room. 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     257 

"  Dr.  Gardner,  I  want  you  to  meet  Mr. 
Palmer,  my  new  assistant  housemaid,"  said 
Evelyn.  The  two  men  shook  hands,  looking 
at  each  other  with  keen  observation.  "He 
has  been  dusting  the  blinds  for  me,"  she  added. 

'  That  reminds  me  that  I  have  still  one  more 
to  do,"  said  Palmer. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that,"  protested  Evelyn. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  leave  my  work  half 
done  ?     That  is  contrary  to  my  motto.     Do 
you  know  what  Miss  Smith's  is,  Dr.  Gardner  ?  " 
'  Get  up  and  git,'  I  should  say." 
Nothing  half  so  expressive  — '  Perfection 
without  effort.'     Is  n't  that  a  nice  modest  one 
to  choose  ?     She  thinks  I  work  too  hard." 

"  I  know  Dr.  Gardner  would  do  that  twice  as 
easily,"  said  Evelyn.  "  Here,"  she  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  Doctor,  "  sit  down  and  show  Mr. 
Palmer  how  to  dust  blinds.  There  is  nothing 
he  can't  do,"  she  said  parenthetically  to  Palmer. 

"  Then  I  most  certainly  won't  spoil  my 
reputation,"  returned  the  Doctor. 

'  Well,  sit  down  and  visit  with  us  a  little, 
anyway.  Here  's  a  third  of  a  bed  for  you  to 
sit  on.  I  want  you  and  Mr.  Palmer  to  know 
each  other.  You  were  made  for  friends.  I 
have  thought  of  it  so  many  times  since  I  have 
known  you." 

Do  you  think  she  knows  ? "  Dr.  Gardner 

17 


258       The  Things  that  Count 

demanded  of  Richard,  with  a  humorous  shake 
of  his  head  in  Evelyn's  direction. 

I  think  she  does  as  far  as  I  am  concerned," 
said  Richard  magnanimously.  The  Doctor 
made  the  motion  of  raising  a  glass  to  his  lips. 

Here  's  to  our  future  friendship,"  he  said. 
Richard  stretched  out  his  hand,  and  the  two 
men  shook  hands  with  mock  solemnity. 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down,"  protested  Evelyn. 
"  It  makes  me  nervous  to  have  you  stand.  I 
feel  sure  that  you  are  going  every  second." 

'  Well,  so  I  am.  You  forget,  young  woman, 
that  I  am  not  a  gay  butterfly." 

'  Well,  be  one  for  half-an-hour,  and  see  what 
it  feels  like.  Sit  down,  and  discover  how  nice 
I  am.  He  is  so  much  more  interested  in  my 
mother  than  in  me  that  it  hurts  my  feelings," 
she  remarked  to  Richard. 

"  Do  you  answer  for  the  bed  ?"  asked  the 
Doctor,  as  he  sat  down.  The  springs  groaned 
ominously. 

"  I  am  planning  to  get  up  an  illness  on  my 
own  account,  so  as  to  excite  a  little  interest," 
she  continued.  "  Well  people  simply  don't 
exist  for  him." 

"You  will  be  nicely  ready  for  it  in  about  a 
week  more  if  you  throw  in  spring  cleanings  and 
little  pleasures  of  that  sort  in  addition  to  your 
duties  as  nurse  and  maid-of-all-work." 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      259 

"  Don't  you  hate  a  man  who  is  so  absorbed 
in  his  profession  that  he  has  become  a  mere 
machine,  and  has  nothing  human  left  in  him  ?  " 
Evelyn  demanded  of  Palmer,  who  was  pegging 
away  resolutely  at  his  remaining  blind. 

;<  Do  you  know  anybody  of  that  type,  Miss 
Smith  ?  "  put  in  the  Doctor. 

"  Who  hardly  notices  what  he  eats,  drinks, 
or  wears,"  she  continued  ;  "  who  makes  no  dis- 
tinction between  individuals,  except  as  to  the 
greater  or  less  interest  of  the  diseases  they 
have, —  a  man  to  whom  a  woman  is  simply  a 
combination  of  bones,  muscles,  and  flesh?"  she 
concluded,  with  an  effective  climax. 

"  Blood  and  a  few  other  things,"  put  in  the 
Doctor  under  his  breath. 

"  '  A  rag,  and  a  bone,  and  a  hank  of  hair,' ' 
quoted  Richard.  "  I  see  what  is  the  rub  for 
Miss  Smith,"  he  continued,  addressing  the 
Doctor.  '  She  is  accustomed  to  have  her 
little  world  at  her  feet,  and  she  does  n't  quite 
know  what  to  make  of  it  if  homage  is  denied." 

"  I  should  think  that  it  would  be  a  very  good 
thing  for  her  once  in  a  while,  then,"  he  re- 
turned. "  Perhaps  I  have  been  disciplining 
her.  Who  knows  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  could  believe  that;  but  your  in- 
difference is  too  unflatteringly  genuine,"  re- 
marked Evelyn. 


260       The  Things  that  Count 

"  Still,  I  am  not  admitting  that  there  has 
been  any,"  he  went  on.  "  Indeed,  I  have 
always  taken  a  profound  interest  in  Miss  Smith 
on  her  own  account,  apart  from  a  vicarious  one 
on  her  mother's.  She  is  rather  a  nice  sort  of  a 
person  on  the  whole;  don't  you  think  so,  Mr. 
Palmer  ?  " 

"  I  most  certainly  do,"  returned  Richard. 

"  All  the  same,  he  had  his  doubts  about 
me  at  first,"  said  Evelyn,  referring  to  Dr. 
Gardner. 

'  What  do  you  know  about  my  doubts  ? " 
demanded  the  Doctor. 

'''  I  can  read  you  like  a  book.  You  ought  to 
have  heard  him  catechising  me  about  the 
sources  of  my  income.  He  had  some  dreadful 
suspicion  about  me,"  she  added,  turning  to 
Richard. 

"  I  am  covered  with  confusion!  "  the  Doctor 
protested,  but  he  did  not  look  so  as  he  sat  gaz- 
ing at  Evelyn  in  the  most  undisturbed  fashion. 
"  All  the  same,  I  don't  know  what  you  live  on 
yet." 

'  Why  should  you  ?  Do  you  expect  to 
know  the  sources  of  all  your  friends'  incomes  ? 
As  it  happens,  however,  I  have  n't  the  slightest 
objection  to  telling  you.  I  have  a  small  in- 
come which  I  inherited  from  the  aunt  who 
adopted  me  and  brought  me  up.  I  live  on 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     261 

that — and  my  friends,  of  whom  I  am  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  have  a  large  number." 

"  Or  so  unfortunate,"  Richard  put  in. 

'  You  are  not  in  this  conversation.  I  am 
talking  to  Dr.  Gardner.  Are  you  really  go- 
ing ?  "  she  broke  off,  turning  to  the  Doctor. 
"  Well,  I  don't  blame  you.  We  are  entirely 
too  frivolous  for  the  serious  professional  mind. 
You  will  find  Mother  in  the  back  room,  and 
Clara  with  her.  I  think  they  must  both  have 
been  asleep.  I  have  n't  heard  a  sound  from 
there  all  the  afternoon."  Dr.  Gardner  held 
out  his  hand  to  Richard. 

Good-by,  my  future  friend,"  he    said    in 
his  easy,  cordial  fashion. 

Richard  had  another  shutter  on  his  blind  to 
do,  and  he  finished  it  carefully,  and  put  the 
blind  back  in  its  place  before  he  spoke  to 
Evelyn. 

'  Well,"  he  began,  when  he  had  sat  down 
beside  her  again,  "  I  don't  realise  it  at  all  yet. 
I  am  dazed.  I  suppose  it  will  all  come  over 
me  with  a  hideous  rush  later  on.  He  is  a  man, 
anyway.  I  am  glad  of  that.  I  am  glad,  too, 
to  see  that  you  can  care.  I  have  sometimes 
doubted  it.  So  there  are  two  blessings  to  be 
grateful  for." 

'  It  is  perfectly  true  what  I  said  to  him.  I 
am  of  no  consequence  to  him  beside  his 


262       The  Things  that  Count 

profession.  He  cares  nothing  for  me,"  she 
answered  simply,  without  any  attempt  at 
equivocation  or  denial  of  what  he  had  implied. 
But  he  will;  surely  he  will,"  Richard  said 
consolingly,  putting  his  own  side  of  the  ques- 
tion out  of  sight  for  the  time. 

"  I    don't    know   about   that.     I    doubt    it. 

0  Richard,  you  are  right!    He  is  such  a  man! 

1  must  tell  you  a  little   about  him,  because 
I  can't  let  you  think  it  was  just  anybody  who 
came  along.     I  have  never  known  anyone  like 
him.     He  is  so  strong  that  I  obey  him  instinct- 
ively, just  as  if  I  were  a  child.       My   faults 
would  never  be  a  matter  of  any  consequence 
to  him,  if  he  cared ;  for  he  would  realise  that 
he  could  make  anything  he  wanted  out  of  me. 
I  am  not  blaming  you,  Richard,"  she  went  on, 
taking  his  hand  in  both  hers.     "  I  don't  see 
how  you  could  have  acted  differently.     You 
did  not  have  the  advantage  of  seeing  me  under 
the  circumstances  that  he  has  done,  and  of  try- 
ing your  power  over  me  in  a  natural,  every-day 
way.     And,  of  course,  that  affair  with  Arthur, 
your  knowing  about  it,  I  mean,  was  unfortu- 
nate;   it   made   you    start   with   a   prejudice. 
Otherwise,   I   think  you  would   have  realised 
that  the  things  you  objected  to  in  me  did  n't 
go  very  deep.     The  love  of  show  and  luxury, 
the  love  of  admiration  which  made  me  not 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     263 

quite  straightforward  sometimes,  did  n't  go  so 
far  down  as  they  seemed  to.  They  have  all 
gone  from  me  so  easily  now.  I  was  very  near 
loving  you  last  summer;  and  this  winter,  too," 
she  continued  after  a  little  pause.  "  It  was 
only  your  attitude  that  kept  me  from  doing  it 
wholly.  That  day  at  Bay  Island,  for  instance ; 
or  that  day  you  came  over  here,  if  you  had 
said  to  me  one  word  of  love  without  a  reserva- 
tion, I  should  have  given  in  on  the  spot.  I 
have  never  minded  your  being  poor;  partly — I 
will  be  honest — because  I  have  always  felt  that 
it  was  only  temporary.  The  only  things  that 
I  minded,  that  my  pride  minded,  was  the  way 
that  you  fought  against  your  feeling  for  me, 
as  of  something  unworthy  of  you.  It  was  this 
that  kept  me  cold." 

"Oh,  my  accursed  prudence!"  groaned 
Richard. 

'•  I  am  sorry  for  this  in  a  way,"  she  con- 
tinued; "  because  I  think  we  should  have  been 
very  happy  together,  and  now  I  see  nothing 
but  unhappiness  before  me." 

"  Do  you  care  for  him  more  than  you  did 
for  Hunt  ?  "  Richard  asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  A  hundred  thousand  times  more!  That 
was  merely  a  fancy.  I  don't  believe  that  there 
has  been  any  time  in  my  life  when  I  would  not 
have  gladly  sold  my  goods  and  followed  him 


264       The  Things  that  Count 

if  I  had  only  known  him.  I  would  infinitely 
rather  be  his  wife,  a  poor  Jersey  City  doctor, 
than  rule  society.  It  will  never  come  to  me, 
however." 

I  can't  believe  that.  What  makes  you  so 
certain  of  it  ?  " 

I  am  so  perfectly  powerless.  I  have  never, 
in  my  whole  life,  shown  anyone  so  nice,  so  at- 
tractive a  side  of  myself  as  I  have  him.  I  did 
not  know  that  I  had  it  in  me  to  be  so  nice.  I 
am  utterly  different  to  him  than  to  anyone 
else;  and  yet  it  is  perfectly  genuine.  It  is  my 
best  self  come  to  life  at  last.  I  could  n't  be 
anything  else  but  perfectly  honest  with  him, 
if  I  knew  that  by  a  little  manoeuvre  or  reserva- 
tion I  could  get  what  I  want  most  on  earth.  I 
have  shown  him  this  side,  and  I  think  he  likes 
me  thoroughly ;  is  even  fond  of  me  in  a  sort  of 
elder  -  brotherly  way;  but  that  is  all.  He 
does  n't  seem  to  realise  that  I  am  a  woman  to 
be  loved.  It  does  n't  seem  to  occur  to  him 
that  there  are  such  possibilities  in  his  life. 
Why,  do  you  know,  I  have  done  everything 
to  keep  him  for  ten  minutes  after  his  visit  to 
my  mother;  and  I  have  never  succeeded  in 
keeping  him  one  second  longer  than  he  in- 
tended to  stay.  He  is  absorbed  in  his  profes- 
sion, body  and  soul  ;  and  yet,  the  strange 
thing  is  that  he  seems  to  have  no  ambitions 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     265 

about  getting  on.  Mrs.  Pinkerton  says  that 
he  has  had  innumerable  offers  from  big  hos- 
pitals in  New  York;  and  the  biggest  doctors 
there  are  always  sending  for  him  for  consulta- 
tions ;  but  he  persists  in  staying  right  here ;  and 
he  sends  the  most  ridiculously  small  bills,  and 
lets  people  pay  them  or  not,  just  as.  they 
choose." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  had  something  in  his  life 
that  he  has  never  got  over,"  Richard  suggested. 

"  I  have  often  wondered.  He  has  never 
been  married,  I  know.  He  does  n't  seem  like 
the  sort  of  man  to  have  had  a  tragedy  in  his 
life,  he  is  always  so  matter-of-fact  and  cheerful. 
His  patients  all  adore  him,  and  he  is  lovely 
to  them  while  they  are  ill ;  but  just  as  soon  as 
they  are  well,  he  drops  them  completely.  He 
has  told  me  more  than  once  that  he  has  no 
time  for  well  people;  so  I  see  my  finish."  She 
tried  to  say  this  lightly,  but  there  was  a  little 
break  in  her  voice.  Richard  held  her  hand 
and  rubbed  his  fingers  up  and  down  her  wrist 
to  show  his  sympathy.  Evelyn  went  on  :  "  He 
is  a  self-made  man.  He  has  never  been  to 
college,  and  he  never  reads  anything  that  is  n't 
medical  nowadays,  though  he  told  me  that  he 
used  to  be  a  great  reader  when  he  was  a  boy ; 
and  there  are  lots  of  little  things  he  does  n't 
know,  about  forks  and  neckties,  and  all  that 


266        The  Things  that  Count 

sort  of  thing;  but,  some  way,  I  don't  care  an 
atom.  I  would  n't  have  him  different  if  I 
could  by  wishing  it.  He  is  so  big  that  such 
things  seem  small  beside  him.  Except  for 
being  immaculately  neat,  he  never  cares  what 
he  has  on,  or  what  I  have  on  either,"  she  added 
regretfully.  "  He  has  no  idea  that  a  sack  coat 
and  an  old  brown  derby  hat  are  not  appropriate 
for  every  hour  of  the  day.  I  saw  him  looking 
at  your  get-up,  and  he  will  probably  make 
some  remark  about  it  to-morrow.  He  does  n't 
care;  but  nothing  escapes  him." 

"  He  is  a  fine-looking  man,  and  he  has  a 
beautiful  voice,"  Richard  remarked.  There 
was  a  note  in  his  voice  that  attracted  Evelyn's 
attention. 

"  Have  I  been  very  selfish  ?  "  she  exclaimed, 
repentantly.  "  How  could  you  let  me  go  on  so? 
You  see,  I  have  always  had  hard  work  believ- 
ing that  you  really  cared,  and  I  had  lost  sight 
of  the  fact  altogether  now.  Besides,  I  felt  that 
you  must  know  about  him — what  he  is  like. 
Forgive  me  if  I  have  hurt  you."  She  got  up 
and,  standing  beside  him,  put  both  her  arms 
around  his  head  and  drew  it  to  her  shoulder. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  he  said  hastily.  "  I  wanted 
to  know.  I  could  not  be  content  not  to  know. 
Besides,  I  have  n't  fully  realised  this  thing  yet, 
— that  I  am  to  lose  you  just  when  I  see  what 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     267 

it  would  be  to  have  you.  I  can't  quite  take  it 
in,  and  I  feel  a  sort  of  objective  interest  in  the 
case,  as  if  it  were  some  other  fellow  it  had  hap- 
pened to.  Besides,  I  like  to  know  that  you  can 
feel  so.  It  is  a  great  consolation  to  know,  once 
for  all,  that  you  are  worthy  of  all  I  have  suf- 
fered, of  all  I  have  yet  to  suffer,  for  you.  Here, 
sit  down.  You  must  n't  stand.  You  are  too 
tired.  Sit  down  close  to  me.  You  won't  mind 
for  once,  this  last  time  ?"  He  put  his  arm 
around  her  as  she  sat  by  him,  leaning  against 
the  foot-board  of  the  bed.  ' '  You  have  no  idea 
how  I  have  loved  you,  Evelyn,"  he  went  on 
quietly.  "  And  you  will  never  know.  It  has 
all  turned  out  unfortunately  for  me ;  but  I  do 
not  see  that  I  have  been  to  blame,  except, 
perhaps,  in  letting  you  know  what  I  ought  to 
have  kept  to  myself  until  I  had  solved  my 
doubts." 

"  And  that  was  n't  your  fault.  I  would  n't 
let  you  keep  it  to  yourself,"  she  put  in. 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  known  by  intui- 
tion what  I  now  feel  to  be  true  about  you  so 
strongly  that  I  can't  conceive  how  I  could  have 
been  blind  to  it;  but  you  must  acknowledge 
that  appearances  were  against  you.  And, 
after  all,  if  I  have  been  to  blame  for  my  cau- 
tion (it  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  it  was 
wicked  not  to  consult  one's  head  as  well  as 


268        The  Things  that  Count 

one's  heart  in  such  matters),  it  is  I  alone  who 
have  to  pay  the  penalty.  It  has  not  hurt 
you." 

"  No;  except  that  it  would  probably  have 
been  for  my  happiness  to  marry  you." 

"  Ah,  but  j'ou  don't  really  think  that!  " 

"  No ;  I  only  know  it,"  she  answered  honest- 
ly. "Of  course  I  prefer—  How  could  I  think 
of  saying  such  a  cruel  thing!  "  she  broke  off, 
burying  her  face  in  his  shoulder.  '  There  is 
no  feeling  on  earth  that  makes  one  so  selfish 
and  inconsiderate,"  she  added  apologetically. 

"  Don't  mind  me,"  he  said  soothingly,  rest- 
ing his  cheek  against  her  hair.  Evelyn  re- 
leased herself,  and  sat  up  straight. 

;<  How  terribly  unconventional  this  is!  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  Would  n't  the  Van  Horns  be 
shocked,  and  all  well-regulated  people,  at  the 
idea  of  my  loving  one  man  and  doing  such 
things  with  another  ?  I  think  that  I  take  things 
in  a  more  simple  way  than  most  people ;  for  it 
seems  so  natural  and  innocent  to  be  a  little 
affectionate  with  you.  It  seems  no  more 
wrong  to  me  than  if  you  were  another  woman. 
Ours  has  always  been  such  a  nice,  clean  rela- 
tion. The  atmosphere  has  always  been  pure. 
And  it  seems  more  innocent  to  treat  you,  a 
man  such  as  you  are,  in  this  way  than  to  let  a 
man  like  that  odious  Mr.  Little  shake  hands 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     269 

with  me.  Of  course,  I  should  n't  do  it  if  I 
were  bound  in  the  slightest  degree  to  anyone 
else,"  she  added. 

"  Your  affection  is  very  sweet  and  consoling 
to  me,"  he  answered  sadly.  '  It  is  a  comfort 
to  feel  that  it  has  n't  all  gone.  I  am  not  heroic 
enough  to  demand  all  or  nothing  now.  I  do 
not  suppose  we  shall  ever  see  each  other,  but 
it  is  a  comfort  to  know  that  I  count  for  some- 
thing in  your  inward,  if  not  in  your  outward, 
life.  I  do  not  feel — it  is  not  that  you  have 
changed,  that  you  care  for  me  less,  but 
simply " 

1  That  I  care  for  him  more,"  she  finished,  as 
he  stopped.  "  I  have  n't  said  much  about  it, 
for  fear  of  sounding  patronising;  but  I  am 
very  fond  of  you,  Richard,"  she  continued,  a 
second  later.  "  I  shall  be  all  my  life.  You 
can  count  on  that.  I  am  of  an  affectionate 
nature,  and  very  constant."  She  stopped  and 
listened  to  the  Doctor's  decided  tread  as  he 
went  down  the  stairs  outside.  "  How  long  he 
has  stayed !  "  she  remarked. 

'  How  that  man  has  power  to  move  you!" 
Richard  exclaimed,  rising  and  looking  down  at 
her.  '  You  were  like  a  different  person  when 
he  was  in  the  room.  You  were  so  intensely 
present." 

'  Yes,"  she  answered.    "  I  forget  everything 


270       The  Things  that  Count 

else  in  the  world,  and  I  seem  to  live  twice  as 
fast." 

"  Do  you  think  he  knows  ?  "  he  asked,  with 
suppressed  emotion. 

"  He  has  never  shown  that  he  does;  but  I 
don't  see  how  he  can  help  it.  Still,  I  have 
never  let  go  of  myself  before  as  I  did  this  after- 
noon. T  never  see  him  alone  more  than  a  few 
minutes  at  a  time;  but  it  did  n't  seem  to  mat- 
ter with  you  4  and  you  had  to  know  it  anyway. 
Mother  and  Clara  and  Mrs.  Pinkerton  don't 
seem  to  have  the  faintest  suspicion.  By  the 
way,  I  was  forgetting  to  tell  you :  Clara  is  to 
be  married  to  Charley  Strong,  the  young  man 
you  met  here,  this  coming  week." 

"  She  is!     What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  's  a  very  good  thing.  He  is 
steady,  and  doing  well  in  his  profession,  and 
they  seem  fond  of  each  other,  if  he  is  a  goose. 
There  will  be  no  wedding  guests,  naturally. 
They  are  going  to  Atlantic  City  for  a  week,  and 
then  are  going  to  settle  down  in  two  rooms  in 
New  York.  Charley's  married  sister  offered 
them  her  rooms  rent  free  until  next  Septem- 
ber; and  that  was  what  decided  them." 

"  I  should  n't  think  Clara  would  go  away 
now,  with  your  mother  so  ill,  for  any  con- 
sideration. It  is  not  fair  on  you,"  Richard 
exclaimed  indignantly. 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow     271 

"  Neither  should  I,"  said  Evelyn  quietly; 
"  but  they  seem  to  see  it  differently.  My 
mother  has  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it. 
Fond  as  she  is  of  Clara,  she  is  very  anxious 
that  they  should  be  married  immediately. 
You  see,  she  has  a  great  idea  of  the  young 
man's  charms,  and  I  think  she  is  afraid  it  might 
fall  through  if  they  waited  too  long.  Is  n't  it 
funny  ? "  she  broke  off  with  a  laugh. 

"  That  seems  to  settle  it  rather  definitely 
that  you  are  to  stay  here  for  the  present, 
does  n't  it  ? " 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  go  away  if  I  could?  " 
she  demanded  with  a  smile.  "  I  told  you  a 
lie,  Richard,  when  I  said  that  it  was  my  con- 
science that  kept  me  here.  Of  course  I  should 
have  stayed  under  any  circumstances;  but  as 
it  was — "  she  paused  abruptly,  evidently  real- 
ising that  her  revelations  could  not  be  pleasing 
to  him. 

'  What  are  you  going  to  put  on  the  floor  ?  " 
he  asked  presently,  with  an  abrupt  change  of 
subject. 

Nothing  for  the  present.  The  carpet  was 
past  cleaning,  and  I  have  n't  any  money. 
Mother  will  be  disgusted  when  she  sees  the 
room  without  carpet  and  curtains;  but  I 
could  n't  help  it.  They  were  too  far  gone, 
and  Dr.  Gardner  (her  voice  sounded  a  little 


272       The  Things  that  Count 

conscious  as  she  spoke  his  name)  was  always 
telling  me  how  unwholesome  they  were.  For- 
tunately, summer  is  coming." 

"  Let  me  send  you  a  big  rug  and  some  cur- 
tains. You  can't  be  proud  with  me,  Evelyn," 
he  added,  as  she  hesitated. 

'  That  is  n't  it ;  but,  you  see,  I  have  always 
taken  so  many  things  from  people,  and  I  am 
disgusted  with  the  whole  idea.     I  want  to  be 
perfectly  independent  for  once." 
'  Do  let  me,"  he  pleaded. 

"  If  you  will  send  the  bill  with  them,  and  let 
me  pay  you  when  I  can,  I  will ;  not  otherwise." 

"  Very  well.  Then  I  suppose  I  must  count 
the  cost." 

'  Yes,  indeed.  Mother  will  be  so  pleased. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I  felt  nervous  about  bringing 
her  back.  And  it  was  a  problem  -what  to  do 
about  the  wedding.  I  thought  I  'd  have  to 
hire  some  rugs  and  curtains,  if  one  can  do  that 
sort  of  thing." 

"  And  how  long  does  the  Doctor  think  it 
will  be  before  Mrs.  Smith  is  out  again  ? " 
Richard  asked. 

"  He  does  n't  say.  She  does  n't  appear  very 
ill  now,  but  he  does  not  seem  quite  easy  about 
her." 

"  And  how  are  you  going  to  get  along  with- 
out Clara's  money  ? "  he  asked  a  second  later. 


Richard  Receives  a  Blow      273 

"  I  shall  manage  some  way.  Mother  has  a 
tiny  little  income,  the  interest  of  a  life  insur- 
ance policy  that  her  father  left  her,  and  we 
shall  get  along  with  that  and  my  money.  We 
shall  give  up  the  room  Clara  has  now,  as  I  have 
to  sleep  on  the  sofa  here,  anyway."  Richard 
looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Do  you  know  that  it  is  half-past  six  ?  I 
have  been  here  four  hours  and  a  half.  I  will 
send  those  things  over  to-morrow  morning  by 
an  expressman  I  know.  His  name  is  Reilly, 
and  he  used  to  be  janitor  in  one  of  Mr.  At- 
water's  buildings.  He  is  a  very  handy  sort  of 
fellow,  and  will  do  anything  you  want  him  to. 
Good-by." 

"  Good-by,"  said  Evelyn.  They  shook 
hands  as  calmly  as  if  he  had  been  paying  her 
a  formal  afternoon's  call. 

He  left  the  room  without  another  word. 
The  afternoon  had  been  so  emotional  that  they 
were  both  tired  out,  and  dreaded  any  further 
show  of  feeling. 

18 


CHAPTER   XIV 

,          THE   DOCTOR 

THE  next  day  at  about  noon  an  express 
waggon-load  of  things  drove  up  to  the 
door.  There  was  one  very  large  blue-and- 
white  ingrain  rug,  with  a  smaller  one  to  put 
by  the  bed,  three  pairs  of  muslin  curtains, 
some  portieres  of  very  heavy  blue-and-white 
striped  cotton,  two  for  the  alcove,  and  one  for 
the  washstand,  with  a  long  arm-like  bracket  to 
hang  it  on,  two  table-covers,  a  mantel  scarf, 
all  in  wash  material,  and  a  screen  covered  with 
a  flowery  buff  chintz.  This  was  to  screen  off 
the  kitchen  department,  in  which  Evelyn  had 
substituted  a  gas  for  a  coal-oil  stove.  There 
were  also  half-a-dozen  potted  plants,  and  a  can 
of  floor  stain,  warranted  to  dry  in  half-an-hour, 
which  Reilly  had  instructions  to  put  on  for 
her.  The  bill  was  enclosed  in  a  sealed  en- 
velope, which  Richard,  in  a  note,  begged  her 
to  burn  unopened.  The  plants,  at  least,  were 
his  present.  She  could  not  refuse  those. 
274 


The  Doctor  275 

Mrs.  Smith  was  so  comfortable  that  day  that 
Evelyn  was  able  to  leave  her  alone  a  great  deal. 
Consequently,  by  five  o'clock  she  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  the  room  in  perfect  order, 
with  the  bed  freshly  made  for  her  mother's  re- 
moval the  next  morning.  The  floor  seemed 
perfectly  dry,  but  Evelyn  would  not  run  any 
risks.  She  felt  a  great  sense  of  relief,  for  she 
had  dreaded  the  prospect  of  bringing  her 
mother  back  to  the  denuded  room.  Mrs. 
Smith  never  liked  her  changes,  and  had  pro- 
tested vigorously  against  the  spring  cleaning; 
but  the  Doctor  was  on  Evelyn's  side,  and  his 
word  was  law.  It  often  seemed  hard  to  Eve- 
lyn that  everything  she  did  should  be  wrong 
in  her  mother's  eyes,  and  everything  Clara  did, 
right.  There  was  some  fault  to  find  with 
every  delicate  little  dish  she  cooked,  while  Mrs. 
Smith  ate  uncomplainingly  the  most  uninviting 
mess  of  Clara's.  Of  course,  the  reason  was 
plain :  this  was  the  mother's  way  of  resenting 
the  criticism  of  herself  and  her  ways  which  she 
could  not  help  feeling  in  her  daughter's  atti- 
tude, although  Evelyn  did  her  best  not  to 
show  it. 

When  the  room  was  finished,  she  brought 
Mrs.  Pinkerton  up  to  see  it.  It  was  really 
very  attractive.  Fortunately,  the  bed  was 
quite  presentable,  of  white  enamelled  iron  ;  and 


276       The  Things  that  Count 

the  bureau,  on  which  she  had  put  a  clean  white 
linen  cover,  was  unobtrusive;  while  the  sofa- 
bed  and  chairs  were  hidden  under  fresh  linen 
covers.  The  only  objectionable  feature  left 
were  some  artistic  attempts  on  the  walls,  of 
which  Evelyn  did  not  dare  dispose.  Mrs. 
Pinkerton  was  as  enthusiastic  as  could  be  de- 
sired, and  insisted  on  calling  up  Miss  Stevens, 
the  dressmaker  on  the  first  floor,  to  admire 
too.  She,  in  turn,  called  her  three  sewing- 
girls,  and  old  Mr.  Bentley,  of  the  floor  above, 
happened  to  go  by  and  stopped  in ;  so  Evelyn 
had  quite  a  house-warming. 

When  Mrs.  Smith  was  moved  in  the  next 
morning,  she  had  n't  a  criticism  to  make, 
which  Evelyn  felt  to  be  quite  an  achievement. 
She  accepted  the  new  furnishings  simply  and 
without  a  question,  Evelyn's  financial  arrange- 
ments being  always  somewhat  of  a  mystery  to 
her.  She  lay  quiet  for  some  time,  looking 
around  her  with  satisfaction. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  it  is  pretty,"  she  said  at 
length,  and  Evelyn  felt  more  than  repaid  for 
all  her  hard  work.  Clara  came  home  that 
night  laden  with  gifts  from  her  fellow  shop- 
girls (it  had  been  her  last  day  at  the  store),  and 
they  had  rather  a  festive  little  supper  in  the 
clean  new  room. 

Three  days  later  Clara  was  married.     There 


The  Doctor  277 

was  no  one  present  except  Charley's  married 
sister  and  her  husband,  his  only  near  relatives. 
There  was  no  wedding  breakfast  of  any  kind. 
Evelyn  had  wanted  to  make  some  sandwiches 
and  coffee,  but  the  Doctor  had  heard  of  her 
project  and  had  talked  Mrs.  Smith  into  object- 
ing to  it. 

Whatever  their  faults  were,  Clara  and  her 
mother  were  sincerely  fond  of  each  other,  and 
parted  with  a  great  deal  of  real  regret. 

It  was  a  relief  to  Evelyn  to  have  the 
house-cleaning  and  the  wedding  over,  and  to 
settle  down  to  her  regular  duties  as  nurse. 
She  was  so  tired  that  it  often  seemed  to  her 
that  she  got  up  more  tired  than  she  went  to 
bed.  Then,  although  her  mother  made  as  few 
demands  upon  her  as  possible,  Evelyn  was 
always  up  at  least  four  or  five  times  during  the 
night  to  do  something  for  her. 

The  week  after  Clara  was  married,  Mrs. 
Smith,  whose  condition  had  been  about  the 
same  for  some  time,  grew  suddenly  worse. 
The  Doctor,  who  had  continued  to  be  anxious 
about  her,  came  two  or  three  times  a  day.  He 
did  not  try  to  hide  from  Evelyn  that  she  was 
in  a  very  critical  condition.  Her  disease  had 
affected  her  heart.  Wednesday  night  Evelyn 
did  not  go  to  bed  at  all,  and  early  Thursday 
morning  her  mother  died.  The  Doctor  was 


278       The  Things  that  Count 

with  her  at  the  time.  She  did  not  suffer  at  all 
at  the  last,  and  died  in  her  sleep.  Evelyn  tele- 
graphed for  Clara  and  her  husband,  and  the 
funeral  took  place  on  Saturday.  Clara  wanted 
her  to  come  home  with  them  after  it  was 
over;  they  would  make  a  bed  for  her  in  their 
parlour.  Evelyn  was  very  grateful, —  it  was 
something  that  she  had  not  expected, — but  she 
did  not  accept.  She  went  back  with  Mrs. 
Pinkerton,  and  went  immediately  to  bed  in 
the  little  hall  bedroom  which  had  been  hers 
originally.  The  sense  of  death  was  too  fresh 
in  her  mother's  room. 

She  went  to  sleep  early,  but  woke  at  mid- 
night, and  lay  awake  the  rest  of  the  night  in  a 
state  of  intense  nervous  suffering.  Every  muscle 
in  her  body  ached  with  fatigue, and  yet  she  could 
not  keep  still,  but  turned  and  twisted  every 
minute.  She  kept  imagining  that  her  mother 
called  her,  and  starting  up  in  nervous  haste. 
She  was  still  wide  awake  when  Mrs.  Pinkerton 
brought  her  some  breakfast,  which  she  could 
hardly  touch.  Mrs.  Pinkerton's  cooking  was 
never  good,  and  Evelyn  did  not  feel  equal  now 
to  the  mental  effort  necessary  to  eat  it.  Her  one 
hope  or  desire  in  life  was  that  Dr.  Gardner 
would  come  to  see  her;  and  as  the  morning 
wore  away  without  him,  she  was  so  disap- 
pointed that  she  began  to  cry,  and,  once  started, 


The  Doctor  279 

she  could  not  stop.  Her  head  was  burning; 
cold  shivers  were  running  up  and  down  her 
spine;  she  had  a  feeling  of  intense  physical 
misery  added  to  an  acute  sense  of  her  forlorn- 
ness.  Practical  questions  disturbed  her.  She 
had  pledged  away  four  or  five  months'  income 
of  her  own  and  her  mother's  (which  now  be- 
longed to  Clara)  in  payment  of  the  funeral  and 
other  expenses,  and  she  awoke  to  a  realisation 
that  she  had  nowhere  to  go,  and  nothing  to 
live  on.  And  if  she  were  going  to  be  ill,  as 
seemed  probable,  what  on  earth  should  she  do  ? 

Finally,  at  about  five  she  fell  into  a  little 
doze,  from  which  she  was  awakened  by  a 
familiar  voice  at  the  door  saying: 

'  May  I  come  in  ?  " 

"  Oh,  come  in,"  she  called  gladly,  wide 
awake  in  a  second. 

4  Well,  how  are  you  ?  Mrs.  Pinkerton  tells 
me  that  I  have  a  patient  in  you,"  Dr.  Gardner 
said,  sitting  down  beside  the  bed. 

14  I  thought  you  had  forgotten  all  about  me," 
Evelyn  said  reproachfully,  the  tears  coming 
into  her  eyes. 

;<  My  poor  child!  I  could  n't  come  before. 
I  had  an  operation  to  perform  this  morning, 
and  I  have  been  busy  ever  since." 

'  How  was  it  ?  Was  it  successful  ?"  she 
asked,  interested  in  all  that  concerned  him. 


280       The  Things  that  Count 

'  Yes,  I  think  so, —  very.  Here,  give  me 
your  hand, —  not  that  one,  the  left.  I  don't 
want  to  hold  your  hand ;  I  want  to  feel  your 
pulse." 

How  should  I  know  which  hand  ?     I  never 
had  my  pulse  felt  in  my  life  before." 

"  Really  ?  It  's  time  you  had  then.  But 
you  have  seen  me  feel  your  mother's  often 
enough." 

But,  you  see,  I  never  am  very  sure  as  to 
which  is  the  right  and  which  the  left." 

"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  those  are 
terms  which  it  is  impossible  to  define  abso- 
lutely ?"  the  Doctor  asked.  'You  can  say, 
'  When  you  face  the  north,  the  east  is  on  your 
right  hand ' ;  but  nothing  more  precise  than 
that.  Now  keep  still  a  little,  and  I  '11  take 
your  temperature  at  the  same  time.  You  have 
a  little  fever,"  he  said,  when  he  had  gone  over 
to  the  washstand  and  washed  his  thermometer. 

"  My  head  is  so  hot,"  she  complained.  He 
laid  his  hand  on  it. 

"  That  is  because  you  have  been  crying. 
Here,  this  will  feel  good." 

He  took  out  a  big,  clean  handkerchief  and, 
wetting  it,  laid  it  on  her  forehead.  '  You 
have  n't  been  sleeping,  I  see,  and  Mrs.  Pinker- 
ton  tells  me  you  have  n't  been  eating." 

"  I  think  that  I  could  eat  if  I  had  something 


The  Doctor  281 

a  little  more  appetizing;  but  I  don't  know  how 
to  get  it." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  am  going  to  do  with 
you  ?  " 

"  No,"  Evelyn  answered,  her  eyes  lighting 
up  like  a  child's  at  the  idea  of  his  doing  any- 
thing at  all  with  her. 

'  This  is  a  cold,  dreary  little  box,  and  there 
is  nobody  to  take  care  of  you.  Mrs.  Pinkerton 
has  more  than  she  can  do  already.  I  am  going 
to  send  Mrs.  Gordon  over  for  you  immediately, 
and  take  you  over  to  my  house.  She  always 
keeps  a  room  ready,  and  likes  nothing  better 
than  for  me  to  bring  one  of  my  patients  home. 
You  shall  have  some  supper,  and  then  I  will 
give  you  something  to  make  you  sleep ;  and 
there  will  be  a  different  story  to-morrow. 
Don't  try  to  get  up  till  Mrs.  Gordon  comes  to 
help  you."  Evelyn  began  to  cry,  she  was  so 
happy  at  the  prospect. 

I  am  such  a  baby,"  she  said  apologetically. 
'  You  do  seem  very  youthful  to-day.     Per- 
haps because  you  have  your  hair  in  a  pigtail, 
and  all  this  lace  and  ribbon  looks  infantile." 

"  Is  n't  it  ridiculous  for  a  girl  in  my  posi- 
tion ?"  said  Evelyn.  !<  But  I  have  n't  any- 
thing else.  All  my  clothes  are  like  this,  and 
the  getting  them  washed  here  has  been  a 
serious  problem.  I  must  make  some  plain 


282       The  Things  that  Count 

nightgowns  when  I  get  well.  They  shall  not 
have  even  a  tuck.  I  wonder  that  I  did  n't  realise 
before  how  ridiculous  they  were  for  a  girl  in 
my  position;  but  I  thought  that  I  had  to  have 
the  things  that  my  friends  had.  Do  you  know, 
I^don't  think  I  have  ever  realised  what  my  po- 
sition really  was  until  I  came  here.  I  am  afraid 
I  must  have  seemed  absurd  sometimes." 

"  I  guess  not,"  said  the  Doctor  concisely. 

14  I  think  my  name  is  so  typical  of  my  life," 
she  went  on,  as  he  appeared  interested — "  Eve- 
lyn Smith.  There  has  been  a  good  deal  of 
Evelyn  in  it  so  far;  but  now  it  is  all  plain  Smith 
and  looks  as  if  it  were  going  to  keep  on  being 
so." 

'  You  may  have  a  chance  to  change  it  for 
Jones  or  Robinson,"  suggested  the  Doctor. 

"  Nothing  could  induce  me  to  do  it.  My 
name  has  been  a  real  cross  to  me  all  my  life, 
and  I  prefer  the  evils  that  I  know.  Still,  to 
go  back  a  little;  it  did  n't  seem  sensible  to  go 
without  things  just  for  the  fitness  of  it.  I  was 
always  having  lace  given  me,  for  instance,  and 
the  material  for  underclothes  costs  so  little, 
and  I  made  them  myself;  and  pretty  things 
always  give  me  a  satisfaction  more  intense  than 
it  would  be  possible  for  you  to  understand. 
My  dislike  for  ugly,  common  things  is  some- 
thing that  I  can't  get  over.  It  has  been  my 


The  Doctor  283 

ruination,  and  has  made  me  lose  sight  of  things 
of  infinitely  more  consequence.  I  can't  put 
my  head  on  a  cotton  pillow-case,  or  eat  off  a 
plated  fork,  without  remembering  how  I  hate 
it.  I  never  get  used  to  such  things." 

1  You  won't  have  those  things  to  bother  you 
at  my  house." 

'  Why,  I  should  n't  imagine  that  you  knew 
the  difference  between  linen  and  cotton,  unless 
it  were  for  bandages." 

Wait  until  you  see  my  house.  You  've 
never  been  in  it,  have  you  ?  " 

"  No;  Mrs.  Gordon  asked  me  to  come  and 
see  her,  but  I  have  been  too  busy." 

"  I  am  very  proud  of  it.  You  see  Mrs.  Gor- 
don was  housekeeper  in  a  great  house  in  Scot- 
land when  she  was  younger,  and  she  has  ideals 
which  I  am  expected  to  live  up  to." 

"  I  think  she  is  lovely,"  said  Evelyn. 

I  don't  see  how  I  could  get  along  without 
her  now,"  said  the  Doctor.  '  I  have  n't  given 
one  thought  to  my  house  for  fifteen  years. 
She  engages  the  servants,  pays  the  bills,  and 
runs  everything  for  about  one  third  of  what  I 
could  do  it  on  and  with  very  indifferent  results. 
It  is  impossible  for  me  to  board,  my  hours 
are  so  irregular;  and,  besides,  I  must  have  a 
place  to  gather  in  sick  kittens  and  stray  dogs  " 
(he  smiled  at  her  as  he  said  this),  "  and  I 


284       The  Things  that  Count 

simply  could  n't  manage  to  look  after  it  my- 
self." 

"  How  did  you  find  each  other  ?  "  Evelyn 
asked. 

"  It  was  sixteen  years  ago,  when  she  first 
came  to  this  country  to  live  with  a  married 
daughter,  her  only  child.  Her  daughter  was 
expecting  a  child,  and  I  was  attending  her. 
Well,  to  cut  a  long  and  painful  story  short, 
when  she  had  been  here  two  weeks,  there  was 
an  accident  in  the  factory  where  her  daughter's 
husband  was  foreman,  and  he  was  killed.  The 
child  was  born  prematurely,  and  both  it  and 
the  daughter  died.  Mrs.  Gordon  had  a  little 
money,  but  she  was  utterly  alone  in  the  world. 
I  was  just  about  to  set  up  housekeeping  then, 
and  wanted  a  housekeeper,  so  I  suggested  her 
coming  to  me.  She  did  not  think  she  was 
strong  enough,  for  she  had  left  her  place  in 
Scotland  on  account  of  ill  health;  but  I  found 
out  what  was  the  matter,  performed  a  serious 
operation  upon  her,  and  now  she  is  a  vigorous 
woman  ." 

"  I  don't  wonder  she  is  so  devoted  to  you," 
said  Evelyn. 

"  I  think  she  is  as  fond  of  me  as  if  I  were 
her  son.  Indeed,  she  treats  me  a  little  like 
one;  which  is  amusing,  considering  that  she 
is  n't  ten  years  older  than  I." 


The  Doctor  285 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  I  suppose  you  are  not 
sensitive  on  the  subject,"  said  Evelyn. 

"  I  shall  be  forty-nine  next  September." 

"  I  did  n't  think  you  were  so  old.  I  am 
twenty-six." 

'  You  look  sixteen  to-day.  I  have  to  keep 
remembering  that  you  are  a  grown-up  young 
lady.  I  want  to  pet  you." 

"  I  wish  you  would  forget  it,  then.  There  is 
nobody  needs  a  little  more  than  I  do.  You 
are  very  fond  of  children,  are  n't  you  ?  I 
notice  that  all  the  kids  on  the  street  know 
you." 

'  Yes,  children  and  animals  and  sick 
people." 

"  And  flowers.  I  am  so  glad  I  am  ill,"  she 
added. 

"  Don't  you  like  them;  children,  I  mean  ?  " 
he  asked.  She  hesitated. 

It  seems  unwomanly  not  to.  I  never 
have  been  fond  of  them  in  general.  I  have 
had  some  such  unpleasant  experiences  with 
spoiled  ones ;  but  it  has  often  occurred  to  me 
lately — of  late  years,  I  mean  —  that  I  might 
have  a  surprisingly  intense  feeling  for  children 
of  my  own." 

'  I  am  sure  you  would.  But  I  have  n't  any 
business  to  stay  here  talking  with  you.  I  have 
two  visits  yet  to  make.  Mrs.  Gordon  will  be 


286       The  Things  that  Count 

over  in  ten  minutes  after  you.  I  '11  see  you 
later  on." 

It  seemed  like  the  fulfilment  of  a  day-dream 
to  Evelyn  when  she  found  herself  in  a  soft  bed 
between  linen  sheets  in  a  big  front  room  at  the 
Doctor's.  A  little  wood  fire  was  blazing  away 
on  the  brass  andirons  on  the  open  hearth.  It 
was  a  very  pretty  room,  with  its  clean  white 
curtains  and  fresh  matting  just  put  down  for 
summer,  its  shiny  old  mahogany  bedstead,  and 
dressing-table  and  chiffonier  to  match,  with 
glittering  brass  handles.  It  had  evidently  been 
recently  papered  and  painted.  The  room,  and 
the  glimpse  of  the  house  which  she  caught  as 
she  came  through  it,  had  been  a  surprise  to 
Evelyn ;  though  not  so  much  so  as  it  would 
have  been  before  she  knew  Mrs.  Gordon.  It 
was  all  evidently  her  doing,  for  its  prettiness 
was  of  an  Old  World  rather  than  a  New  World 
model.  Evelyn's  nervous  restlessness  was  all 
gone,  and  she  felt  tranquilly  content  as  she 
waited  for  her  supper  with  something  that  was 
almost  an  appetite. 

Presently  a  neat  maid  came  up  with  a  tray, 
which  she  set  on  a  little  invalid's  table  stand- 
ing ready  by  the  bed.  Mrs.  Gordon  followed 
with  a  decanter  of  sherry. 

"How  good  it  looks!"  Evelyn  exclaimed 
when  the  covers  were  removed,  and  she  saw  the 


The  Doctor  287 

broiled  chicken,  creamed  potato,  and  hot  toast. 
There  was  also  some  apricot  marmalade,  and 
some  delicious  home-made  spice-cake;  but  her 
appetite  gave  out  before  she  got  to  those. 

"  Now,  I  must  go  down  and  see  to  the  Doc- 
tor's supper, —  he  said  that  he  would  be  in 
early  to-night — and  then  I  will  come  up  and 
put  your  things  away  for  you,"  Mrs.  Gordon 
said,  when  Evelyn  could  eat  no  more. 

"  You  are  so  kind/'  said  Evelyn.  "  Can't 
the  maid  do  it  ?  What  is  her  name  ?  " 

:<  No;  I  prefer  to.  Her  name  is  Maria,  and 
I  call  her  so;  but  the  Doctor  does  n't  like  it. 
He  says  she  is  too  nice  a  girl  to  have  such  a 
hideous  name,  so  he  calls  her  Gwendolen." 

"How ridiculous!"  exclaimed  Evelyn, laugh- 
ing. 

"  That  's  his  droll  little  way.  He  calls  me 
Mrs.  John  Knox,  and  the  cook  Artemisia,  be- 
cause she  spent  a  whole  year's  wages  in  buying 
a  tombstone  for  her  husband.  It  seems  there 
was  an  Artemisia  who  built  a  grand  tomb  over 
her  husband.  The  cook's  name  is  really 
Carrie." 

Artemisia  was  Queen  of  Halicarnassus, 
and  the  tomb,  the  Mausoleum,  is  one  of  the 
seven  wonders  of  the  world ;  and  that  is  the 
only  reason  that  I  know  anything  about  it,  be- 
cause I  had  to  learn  them  at  school.  And 


288       The  Things  that  Count 

how  do  Maria  and  Carrie  like  being  re- 
christened  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  you  will  find  that  anything  Dr. 
Gardner  wants  to  do  in  this  house  is  perfectly 
satisfactory,"  Mrs.  Gordon  declared  solemnly, 
leaving  the  room  with  the  tray  in  her  hands. 

Before  long  Evelyn  heard  the  Doctor  come 
in  and  whistle  for  his  dogs.  Three  quarters  of 
an  hour  later,  Mrs.  Gordon  came  up-stairs 
again,  announcing  that  the  Doctor  would  be 
up  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  cigar.  Eve- 
lyn tried  to  make  her  talk  as  she  put  away  her 
belongings  in  the  closet  and  drawers,  but  it  was 
not  easy.  She  had  a  certain  native  reticence 
that  she  seldom  broke  through.  Evelyn  had 
seen  a  great  deal  of  her  during  her  mother's 
illness,  as  the  Doctor  had  often  sent  Mrs.  Gor- 
don over  with  things  for  his  patient  to  eat. 
Mrs.  Smith  had  always  disliked  to  have  her 
come  into  her  room,  so  Evelyn  had  been  es- 
pecially cordial  to  make  up  for  it. 

'  That  woman  hates  me.  I  always  feel  it ; 
and  besides,  Mrs.  Powers  told  me  so,"  Mrs. 
Smith  would  say  every  time  she  came.  She 
and  Mrs.  Gordon  were  old  acquaintances, 
through  their  common  interest  in  the  Presby- 
terian Church;  but  Mrs.  Gordon  had  always 
avoided  Mrs.  Smith.  She  was  anxious  to 
make  friends,  however,  when  the  latter  became 


The  Doctor  289 

ill,  but  Mrs.  Smith  was  ungracious.  Evelyn 
felt  that  Mrs.  Gordon  had  started  with  a  preju- 
dice against  her,  as  being  her  mother's  daughter ; 
but  that  had  worn  away  long  ago,  and  Mrs.  Gor- 
don now  showed  a  quiet  liking  for  her  in  her  un- 
demonstrative Scotch  fashion.  As  Evelyn  came 
to  know  her  better,  she  was  struck  by  the  ab- 
sence of  certain  national  characteristics  in  her. 
She  was  generous,  for  instance;  would  give 
away  anything  or  everything  she  possessed,  and 
she  was  not  at  all  obstinate.  Evelyn  heard  her 
own  herself  in  the  wrong  more  than  once,  which 
was  certainly  not  a  Scotch  trait.  The  two  de- 
votions of  her  life  were  her  church  and  the 
Doctor,  and  her  great  sorrow  that  she  could 
not  make  the  two  amalgamate.  She  was  a 
woman  of  high  principles  and  strong  affections, 
but  her  life  had  lain  so  continuously  in  the 
shadow  that  she  had  no  faith  in  sunshine.  She 
had  heard  that  there  was  such  a  thing,  but 
did  n't  really  accept  the  fact.  She  was  gen- 
erally cheerful  in  a  quiet  way  on  the  surface; 
but  if  one  got  her  to  talk  on  deeper  sub- 
jects, her  unaffected  pessimism  was  very 
evident. 

May  Mavis  and  Wink  come  in  too  ?  "  the 
Doctor  asked,  as  he  appeared  in  the  doorway, 
closely  followed  by  a  beautiful  Scotch  collie 
and  a  fussy  little  fox-terrier. 


290       The  Things  that  Count 

"  Yes,  indeed.  I  have  wanted  to  know  them 
for  a  long  time." 

'You  won't  find  them  backward.  Don't 
jump  on  the  bed,  you  imps,  or  the  lady  who 
bosses  us  all  will  be  cross  to  me.  Here,  Mavis, 
you  can't  sit  on  my  knee.  You  're  too  big.  I 
should  think  you  would  have  learned  that  by 
this  time.  That  's  a  privilege  that  you  have 
to  leave  to  Wink.  Well,  young  woman,  are 
you  comfortable  ?  " 

"Oh,  so  comfortable!  Lavender-scented 
sheets,  and  a  bed  with  a  spring  to  it,  and  bed- 
clothes that  are  both  light  and  warm  are  such 
a  refreshing  change." 

'  You  are  a  Sybarite !  I  say,  do  you  use  all 
those  things?"  he  broke  off.  Mrs.  Gordon 
was  laying  Evelyn's  toilet  articles  out  on  the 
dressing-table,  and  he  had  been  watching  her. 

'  Those  belong  to  the  Evelyn  part  of  me. 
Show  Dr.  Gardner  my  brush,  will  you  please, 
Mrs.  Gordon  ?  See  what  a  beautiful  piece  of 
ivory  it  is.  My  aunt  gave  me  the  whole  set 
the  Christmas  before  she  died.  They  were 
very  expensive;  but  I  can't  sell  them  on  ac- 
count of  the  initials,  so  I  might  as  well  use 
them." 

' '  I  like  ivory, ' '  said  the  Doctor.  "It  always 
reminds  me  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba." 

"  And  is  that  why  you  like  it  ?     Make  Mrs. 


The  Doctor  291 

Gordon  sit  down,  won't  you  ?  I  am  so  grate- 
ful to  her." 

;<  I  can't  unless  I  use  force.  Persuasion  has 
no  effect.  Sometimes  I  take  her  by  her  shoul- 
ders, and  literally  make  her  sit  down;  but  she 
bobs  up  again  in  a  minute.  She  has  an  anti- 
quated, Old  World  notion  that  she  is  doing  me 
some  honour  by  tiring  those  poor  old  feet  of 
hers  that  she  has  used  all  day  in  my  service." 
There  was  an  affectionate  kindliness  in  his 
words  that  brought  tears  to  Evelyn's  eyes, 
which  she  turned  away  so  that  he  should  not 
see  them.  "  If  she  'd  only  kneel  in  my  pre- 
sence, or  salaam,  there  'd  be  some  real  satisfac- 
tion to  me  in  it,"  he  added  more  lightly.  Mrs. 
Gordon  received  his  words  with  the  quiet  smile 
with  which  she  greeted  all  his  remarks,  as  Eve- 
lyn came  to  know  later.  She  never  attempted 
any  answer  to  his  little  jokes  at  her  expense. 
Now  she  quietly  left  the  room  with  an  amusing 
little  duck  of  her  knees,  the  probable  survival 
of  a  curtsey,  at  the  door. 

"  But  the  Queen  of  Sheba  ?  "  Evelyn  de- 
manded, when  she  had  shut  the  door  behind 
her. 

'  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  lived  on  a  farm  in 
New  Hampshire,  as  I  have  probably  told  you 
more  than  once." 

"  No,  you  have  n't,"  she  put  in. 


292       The  Things  that  Count 

'  You  know  it  now,  then.  Well,  I  was  crazy 
about  books:  I  told  you  that,  any  way?" 
Evelyn  nodded.  "  And  it  was  very  few  that 
I  got  to  read.  Consequently,  I  used  to  read 
the  Bible  (I  had  to  have  something),  and  the 
parts  about  Solomon  and  the  building  of  the 
temple  had  a  great  fascination  for  me,  just  as 
later  I  was  fascinated  by  the  Song  of  Solomon. 
I  used  to  wonder  about  the  precious  stones  by 
the  hour.  And,  to  this  day,  I  never  go  by  a 
jeweler's  window  or  see  a  piece  of  ivory  with- 
out remembering  it." 

"  Tell  me  about  your  life  when  you  were  a 
boy,"  she  pleaded,  with  flattering  interest. 

"  There  was  n't  much  to  tell, — just  the  usual 
starved  life  of  a  New  England  boy  on  a  farm. 
I  went  to  the  Academy  at  Revere,  a  town 
three  miles  away,  in  winter,  and  worked  on  the 
farm  in  summer.  I  was  always  determined  to 
study  medicine.  I  used  to  doctor  all  the  ani- 
mals for  miles  around  before  I  was  fifteen,  and 
finally  I  managed  to  save  up  enough  money  to 
come  down  to  New  York  and  enter  a  medical 
school.  They  would  n't  have  let  me  in  nowa- 
days with  so  little  book-learning.  I  did  night- 
work  in  a  stable  for  my  board  and  lodging  and 
a  dollar  a  week.  In  the  daytime,  in  winter,  in 
order  to  keep  warm,  I  used  to  study  in  the 
clean  straw  of  a  box  stall  with  a  fine  roadster 


The  Doctor  293 

who  was  boarded  at  the  stable.  How  my 
clothes  must  have  smelled  !  I  wonder  they  let 
me  in  the  lectures;  but  I  don't  remember  any 
remarks  being  made  about -it." 

"  How  badly  you  must  have  wanted  it!" 
said  Evelyn. 

"  I  did.  I  was  very  ambitious  in  those  days. 
And  after  I  got  my  diploma  I  worked  in  the 
hospitals  for  a  long  time,  and  then  I  went 
abroad  to  study  for  two  years;  and  after  that  I 
had  an  opening  here,  and  I  came,  and  have 
been  here  ever  since.  There,  you  have  my 
autobiography. 

"  I  often  wonder  why  you  don't  go  to  New 
York,"  said  Evelyn. 

"  Oh,  this  suits  me.     I  shall  die  here." 
"  Do  you  never  take  a  vacation  ?  " 
"  I  go  up  to  the  old  farm  for  a  week  every 
summer.     My  nephew  and  his  wife  live  there. 
By  the  way,  the  furniture  in  this  room  came 
from  the  old  place.      My  brother  insisted   on 
my  taking  it  after  my  father  died.     You  see,  I 
had  no  use  for  the  farm  or  live  stock.     I  hated 
to  take  it  away;  but  his  wife  had  some  furni- 
ture of  her  own  that  she  wanted  room  for." 

I   have  been    wondering   about  it,"   said 
Evelyn. 

It  was  in  my  mother's  room.     I  was  born 
in  that  bed." 


294        The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  should  think  you  would  want  it  in  your 
own  room,"  she  suggested. 

I  would,  only  it  is  more  convenient  for  me 
to  sleep  downstairs,-  and  this  bed  is  too  big  for 
my  room." 

I  like  its  being  open  at  the  foot,  so  that  I 
can  see  the  fire.  The  dogs  on  the  hearthrug, 
with  their  noses  on  their  paws,  are  such  a 
pretty  picture,  and  the  dark  twisted  mahogany 
posts  make  such  an  appropriate  frame." 

How  the  look  of  things  does  appeal  to 
you  !  "  said  the  Doctor.  "  I  was  brought  up  to 
think  that  nothing  mattered  but  conduct.  It 
was  such  a  dreary  doctrine,  and  I  was  impatient 
under  it  long  before  my  mind  rebelled  at  the 
needless  restraint  of  it  all.  I  remember  think- 
ing, when  I  was  only  ten  or  eleven,  that  if  I  ever 
got  away  from  the  farm,  I  would  never  enter  a 
church  again ;  and  I  almost  never  have.  The 
hopelessness  of  a  New  England  Sunday,  and 
the  struggle  between  Puritan  repression  and 
the  instincts  of  youth,  what  a  hideous  mistake 
it  has  all  been !  I  have  my  nephew  down  to 
visit  me  sometimes,  and  I  take  him  over  to  New 
York,  and  to  all  the  theatres,  and  I  paint  the 
town  red  for  him  generally ;  and  I  send  his  wife, 
who  is  a  great  reader,  all  the  modern  books,  I 
am  so  afraid  of  their  bringing  their  children  up 
on  the  old  plan.  I  never  see  that  bed  that  I 


The  Doctor  295 

don't  remember  one  little  incident,"  he  con- 
tinued. '  I  was  ten,  and  I  did  something 
desperately  wicked :  read  Robinson  Crusoe  on 
Sunday,  it  was.  I  was  caught  red-handed, 
and  my  mother  took  me  into  her  room  and 
made  me  kneel  down  by  it.  '  Thomas,'  she 
said  severely,  'pray  to  your  Creator  to  change 
your  wicked  heart,  and  to  lead  you  into  the 
ways  of  righteousness  and  peace,'  and  she  stood 
over  me  with  a  switch  in  her  hand  until  I  did 
say  something  of  the  sort,  and  then  she  applied 
the  switch." 

How  perfectly  dreadful!  "  exclaimed  Eve- 
lyn. "  But  is  your  name  Thomas  ?  I  did  n't 
know  what  the  T  stood  for.  I  can't  imagine 
you  a  Tom." 

I  never  was,  at  home.  It  was  always 
Thomas  in  full.  I  think  my  parents  would 
have  expected  it  to  affect  my  character  if  they 
had  called  me  by  anything  so  light  and  frivo- 
lous as  Tom." 

'  Tell  me  something  more  about  your 
mother,"  she  asked,  fascinated,  as  a  woman 
always  is,  by  the  idea  of  the  mother  of  the 
man  she  loves. 

;<  I  remember  nothing  that  was  n't  stern. 
She  was  intensely  religious,  and  cold,  and  hard. 
She  was  avaricious,  too.  I  often  .fancy  that 
my  father  would  have  been  very  different  if  it 


296       The  Things  that  Count 

had  n't  been  for  her  influence.     She  dominated 
him." 

"  It  must  be  lovely  to  have  had  a  mother 
with  whom  one  was  in  sympathy,"  Evelyn  said 
with  a  sigh.  The  Doctor  laid  his  hand  on  hers 
for  a  second,  and  then  took  it  away. 

I  like  your  honesty  so  much,"  he  said. 
;<  I  like  your  courage  in  not  pretending  that 
your  mother's  death  was  a  great  grief  to  you." 

I  envied  Clara  that  she  really  cared,"  she 
answered  slowly.  "  And  I  am  thoroughly 
glad  that  I  had  this  chance  to  do  something 
for  my  mother  before  she  died ;  but  I  never 
had  a  particle  of  affection  for  her.  You  are  so 
above  conventional  humbug  that  you  won't 
be  shocked  at  my  saying  that  I  disliked  her; 
and  yet,  do  you  know,  at  first  I  missed  her: 
missed  the  things  I  had  to  do  for  her.  Now 
I  feel  only  a  sense  of  relief  that  I  shall  not 
have  the  strain  of  a  relation  that  was  near  only 
in  name.  We  were  utterly  uncongenial,  and 
I  sometimes  felt  that  she  hated  me.  Of 
course,  I  would  n't  say  what  I  have  said  to 
any  one  but  you.  I  shall  wear  a  black  gown 
in  the  street,  and  pay  every  outward  respect 
to  her  memory;  but  I  most  certainly  shall  not 
pretend  that  it  is  a  great  grief  to  me.  It  was 
a  shock,  as  death  always  is,  and  nothing  more. ' ' 

How  old  were  you  when  you  went  to  live 


The  Doctor  297 

with  your  aunt?"  he  asked.  'Tell  me 
something  about  yourself.  I  have  told  you 
my  uneventful  history." 

"  With  big  hiatuses.  You  have  left  out  all 
the  interesting  chapters." 

"  What,  for  instance  ?" 

"  About  the  time  when  you  read  the  Song 
of  Solomon,  for  one." 

"  Oh,  you  woman!  It  was  n't  interesting. 
Still,  you  needn't  leave  out  those  parts  in  your 
narrative." 

"  I  shall  follow  your  example.  My  ambi- 
tions will  seem  so  petty  to  you,"  she  continued 
soberly.  "  My  life  has  not  been  a  dignified 
one;  still,  I  should  like  to  have  you  know 
about  it.  It  will  help  you  understand  why  I  fall 
short  in  so  many  ways.  I  believe  I  had  it  in  me 
to  be  a  good  deal  of  a  woman  originally.  If  only 
both  my  names  had  been  of  the  same  kind!  " 

"  It  is  not  too  late  for  you  to  make  anything 
you  wish  of  yourself,"  the  Doctor  remarked 
gravely. 

Listen.  What  sort  of  a  life  has  this  been, 
do  you  think  ?  "  she  asked,  going  on  to  tell 
him  her  little  history,  making  no  attempt  to 
hide  anything  that  was  to  her  disadvantage. 
She  left  out  the  sentimental  episodes. 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  next  ? "  he 
asked,  when  she  had  finished. 


298       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  shall  stay  at  Mrs.  Pinkerton's  for  the 
present.  I  have  n't  any  money  to  go  away. 
I  have  been  making  some  plans.  I  fancy 
Miss  Stevens,  the  dressmaker  who  has  the 
parlours,  you  know,  will  be  glad  to  give  me 
some  sewing  to  do.  She  is  very  busy  now, 
and  she  has  got  into  the  habit  of  coming  to 
me  for  ideas,  which  is  where  she  falls  short. 
At  least,  it  will  be  sitting  down.  I  don't  feel 
as  if  I  should  ever  be  without  the  ache  in  my 
legs  and  hips  again." 

'  Just  wait  two  or  three  days,  and  see. 
Well,  I  suppose  you  can  try  that  until  some- 
thing better  turns  up.  I  will  think  about  it. 
You  won't  go  back  to  your  old  life  ? " 

"  No,  indeed.  I  must  be  independent.  I 
must  be  free.  Just  think,  I  have  never  been 
free  in  my  life  before." 

'  You  poor  child!  Well,  it  is  time  you 
went  to  sleep  now.  I  hope  I  have  n't  excited 
you ;  but  I  thought  it  was  better  for  you  to 
talk  than  to  lie  here  thinking.  I  am  going  to 
send  Mrs.  Gordon  to  you  with  an  egg-nog 
and  a  powder,  and  I  want  you  to  take  both. 
Good-night."  He  stretched  out  his  hand  to 
her.  Evelyn  took  it,  and  laid  her  cheek  against 
it;  then  she  kissed  it  and  baptized  it  with  a 
tear  at  the  same  time. 

"  You  are  so  good  to  me,"  she  said  brokenly. 


The  Doctor 


299 


The  Doctor  stooped  and  kissed  her  on  her 
forehead  :  a  calm  paternal  kiss. 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  child.  Sleep  well, 
and  trust  in  me.  I  will  see  that  this  little 
sparrow  does  n't  fall  to  the  ground." 

Evelyn  went  to  sleep  very  happy,  although 
it  was  impossible  to  put  the  construction  she 
would  have  liked  on  what  he  had  said  and  done. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   GATES   AJAR 

THE  Doctor  had  ordered  Evelyn  to  stay  in 
bed  the   next  morning,   which  she  was 
quite  content  to  do.     She  lay  there  all  day, 
reading  a  little,  but,  for  the  most  part,  dozing 
and    day  -  dreaming   and    looking   forward    to 
evening,  when  the  Doctor  was  to  pay  her  a 
visit.     He  came  at  half-past  seven,  but,  to  her 
great  disappointment,  stayed  only  five  minutes. 
'  You  will  want  to  get  up  to-morrow,  I  sup- 
pose," he  said  just  before  he  left. 

There  is  no  earthly  reason  why  I  should 
not.  I  have  nothing  the  matter  with  me,  and 
I  am  getting  rested.  I  must  be  horribly  strong. 
Still,  I  don't  want  to  get  up,  ^because  then  I 
shall  feel  that  I  ought  to  go  back  to  Mrs. 
Pinkerton's." 

"  You  need  not  bother  about  that.  I  intend 
to  keep  you  until  Thursday,  anyway.  Get 
up,  and  to-morrow  afternoon,  if  it  is  pleasant, 

300 


The  Gates  Ajar  301 

I  '11  take  you  out  with  me  for  a  four-mile  drive 
into  the  country.  I  have  to  go  and  see  a 
patient/'  Evelyn's  face  showed  her  pleasure. 

The  next  morning  she  awoke  early,  with  the 
excitement  of  the  prospect,  and  lay  watching 
the  sunbeams  striking  the  little  leaves  on  the 
elms  outside  her  window.  It  promised  to  be 
a  glorious  day.  She  sent  Maria,  alias  Gwen- 
dolen, over  to  Mrs.  Pinkerton's  to  get  a  thin 
black  dress  of  hers.  She  was  dressed  and 
ready  long  before  the  Doctor,  who  had  been 
in  New  York  all  day,  drove  up  to  the 
door. 

"  Well,  did  you  eat  any  dinner  ? "  he  asked, 
when  she  was  seated  beside  him,  and  they  had 
driven  off  behind  the  pair  of  fast  horses  which 
were  his  one  extravagant  taste. 

"  An  enormous  one.  I  feel  fatter  already. 
I  am  glad,  because  it  is  unbecoming  to  me  to 
be  so  thin."  The  Doctor  turned  and  looked 
at  her.  "  Don't  look  at  me,"  she  protested. 
'  Unrelieved  black  is  so  unbecoming  to 
me." 

1  You  have  such  a  faculty  of  looking  dressed 
up,  whatever  you  wear,"  he  returned.  '  Your 
gown  is  plain,  but  it  has  an  air." 

"  It  is  terribly  passte.  I  wore  it  all  last  sum- 
mer, with  a  green-and-white  stock  and  belt. 
You  just  think  so,  because  you  never  go 


302        The  Things  that  Count 

anywhere,  or  see  anything,  you  poor  countri- 
fied thing,"  said  Evelyn.  The  Doctor  laughed. 
'  You  like  to  insult  me,  don't  you  ?  Well, 
I  don't  mind,  if  it  amuses  you." 

"  I  would  n't  do  it  if  I  thought  you  did," 
she  said  gently.  "I  do  it  the  way  you  call 
Mavis  bad  names." 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  daughter  like  you;  or  that 
you  were  my  daughter,"  he  remarked. 

"  I  don't,"  she  asserted  with  decision. 

"  Why  not,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  I  'd  give 
you  all  the  clothes  you  wanted." 

"  Because  I  prefer  to  be  on  an  equality  with 
you.  You  would  think  you  had  a  right  to  put 
on  airs,  if  you  were  my  father." 

"As  the  parent  of  so  superior  a  specimen,  I 
suppose  ? " 

'  You  can  take  it  that  way,  if  you  like.  At 
all  events,  as  it  is,  there  is  no  reason,  no  con- 
ventional reason  (that  you  are  such  miles 
above  me  does  n't  count,  from  this  point  of 
view),  why  I  should  n't  treat  you  like  any 
other  man.  It  would  be  all  right  for  me  to 
ask  you  to  stop  and  pick  that  buttercup  for  me 
(the  first  I  have  seen  this  year),  or  to  do  any- 
thing else  I  wanted  you  to.  If  you  were  my 
father,  I  'd  have  to  wait  on  you." 

'  You  surely  have  n't  the  face  to  ask  a  man 
of  my  age  and  size,  who  is  driving  two  young 


The  Gates  Ajar  3°3 

restless  horses,  to  climb  out  of  a  high  buggy 
into  a  muddy  road  for  a  measly  little  flower 
like  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  your  age!  What  does  that  amount 
to  ?  And  you  are  more  active  than  men  half 
your  size;  and  you  know  you  'd  have  got  out 
and  got  it  for  yourself  if  you  had  seen  it.  I  '11 
hold  the  horses.  They  are  cows  beside  some 
I  have  driven." 

4  You  may  insult  me,  Madam  ;  but  you  must 
respect  my  horses,"  he  declared,  with  mock 
severity,  handing  her  the  reins,  and  getting  out 
of  the  buggy. 

It  was  a  glorious  spring  day.  The  sun  was 
bright  and  warm  ;  but  out  here,  in  the  country, 
patches  of  snow  still  lingered  in  the  deep  hol- 
lows. The  grass  was  coming  up ;  the  trees  were 
putting  forth  their  little  new  leaves ;  birds  were 
singing  on  every  branch. 

How  lovely  the  old  world  is  to-day!" 
Evelyn  said  softly,  as  he  handed  her  the  flower 
and  some  ferns  that  he  had  found  near  it. 

Would  you  mind  waiting  on  me  so 
much  ?  "  he  asked,  in  the  tone  of  one  request- 
ing information,  as  they  were  driving  along 
the  road  again. 

"  I  should  love  to ;  but  I  am  not  going  to  do 
it.  If  I  began,  all  would  be  lost.  You  drop 
into  the  paternal  quite  too  much  as  it  is,  and 


304       The  Things  that  Count 

that  would  put  the  finishing  touch  to  any 
hopes  I  may  have  of  meeting  you  on  the  broad 
human  basis  of  man  and  woman.  I  want  to 
be  your  friend,  not  your  plaything.  You  treat 
me  like  a  child  sometimes,  but  I  am  not  a 
child.  I  am  a  woman,  and  I  have  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  a  woman.  You  need  not  select 
your  conversation, —  expurgate  it  to  suit  the 
youthful  mind — you  can  say  anything  you  like 
to  me.  I  can  understand  any  point  of  view." 
I  have  known  so  few  women,  except  pro- 
fessionally," he  said,  half  apologetically;  "and 
I  have  never  been  in  the  habit  of  making 
friends  with  them.  I  have  known  sick  ones 
almost  exclusively,  and  they  are  such  irrational 
specimens:  so  emotional,  and  so  apt  to  mistake 
human  sympathy  and  professional  interest  for 
something  warmer,  that  I  always  keep  away 
from  the  personal  with  them." 

'  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  that  with  me," 
Evelyn  said  quietly.  "  I  have  known  men  by 
the  hundreds,  and  I  know  so  well  how  much 
appearance  there  may  be  without  any  reality — 
which  does  n't  refer  to  you  in  the  least.  Still, 
I  shall  not  misunderstand  you." 

"  But  it  takes  so  much  time  to  make  friends 
— and  I  have  no  time — and  such  large  oppor- 
tunities; and  there  would  n't  be  any  at  all  in  a 
gossiping  little  neighbourhood  like  ours." 


The  Gates  Ajar  3°5 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  she  contradicted.  "  It 
does  n't  take  time.  That  is  a  conventional 
notion :  you  are  full  of  them  in  some  ways. 
All  the  time  is  for,  is  to  be  sure  of  each  other, 
and  circumstances  are  often  a  short  cut  to 
that.  If  you  and  I  are  not  sure  of  each  other 
now,  after  the  night-watches  that  we  have 
kept  together, — off  our  guard,  with  no  thought 
of  effect  or  concealment, — we  never  will  be. 
You  are  sure  of  me.  Whatever  I  may  have 
been,  I  shall  never  be  anything  but  true  and 
loyal  to  you.  I  could  n't  any  more  help  being 
sincere  with  you  than  I  could  set  a  Rhine- 
stone beside  a  diamond." 

"  And  how  about  the  opportunities  ?"  he 
asked  gravely. 

'  There  won't  be  many,  but  we  must  make 
the  most  of  the  few  that  come ;  not  waste  them 
simply  because  there  are  not  more  of  them." 
'  But  it  would  n't  be  fair,"  he  protested. 

My  life  is  a  full,  and  yours  is  an  empty  one. 
I  am  thoroughly  absorbed  in  my  work,  and  I 
have  come  to  the  age  when  human  relations 
are  more  or  less  unessential,  while  you  are 
young,  and  the  blood  runs  warm  in  your  veins. 
It  would  inevitably  come  to  mean  more  to  you 
than  it  does  to  me.  No,  my  dear  girl,  it  is  an 
attractive  prospect;  but  it  won't  do.  You 
must  stay  a  couple  of  days  longer  with  me, 


306       The  Things  that  Count 

and  we  will  enjoy  those  all  we  can ;  and  after 
that  you  must  go  your  way,  and  I  mine.  I 
cannot  honourably  enter  into  a  relation  which 
would  be  friendship  for  you  only  in  name. 
Is  n't  this  the  truest  kindness  ? "  he  asked 
gently,  after  a  pause  in  which  Evelyn  gave  no 
expression  to  the  pain  she  was  feeling,  but  sat 
motionless,  gazing  at  the  lovely  sunshiny 
country  with  unseeing  eyes. 

;<  I  am  a  pretty  woman,"  she  began  pre- 
sently, and  her  voice  was  perfectly  calm.  "  I 
have  been  told  that  I  was  beautiful  more  than 
once.  I  am  clever;  I  am  good-tempered;  I 
am  affectionate.  I  know  that  I  have  personal 
charm,  and  I  could  love  a  man  as  he  would 
dream  of  being  loved.  Does  all  this  mean 
nothing  to  you  ?  It  is  more  than  most  women 
have." 

"  My  dear  Evelyn,  it  is  twenty  years  since 
I  looked  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her,"  he 
said  solemnly,  falling  into  the  words  of  the 
beautiful  old  Book,  which  rise  to  the  lips  of  us 
all  in  the  memorable  moments  of  our  lives. 
"  1  have  nothing  to  give  to  a  woman  now  ex- 
cept my  name,  a  home,  and  a  little  more  of  the 
same  kind  of  affection  that  I  give  to  Mavis. 
Would  that  content  you  ?  You  would  be 
supremely  dissatisfied.  And  do  you  think  I 
could  reconcile  it  with  my  conscience  to  take 


The  Gates  Ajar  3°7 

your  all  and  give  in  exchange  the  little  I  have 
to  offer  ?  No.  I  have  lived  alone,  and  I  shall 
die  alone.  My  eyes  shall  be  closed  by  a  hire- 
ling. There,  my  child ;  don't  cry.  Believe 
me,  you  will  be  glad  of  this  very  soon.  Here, 
suppose  you  get  out  and  wait  for  me  till  I  come 
back.  That  is  the  house  over  there.  I  '11  stop 
at  that  big  stone  for  you.  It  will  do  you  good 
to  take  a  stroll  around  the  fields.  This  won't 
make  any  constraint,  will  it  ? "  he  asked 
anxiously. 

How  could  it  ? "  she  said  fervently,  raising 
her  eyes  full  of  tears  to  his.  '  You  surely 
don't  think  that  I  am  small  enough  to  feel  any 
mortification.  I  hate  even  to  use  the  word  in 
this  connection." 

'  That  's  my  large-minded  girl !  "  He  put 
his  arm  around  her,  and,  drawing  her  to  him, 
kissed  her  on  her  cheek.  '  That  's  for  the 
daughter  I  never  had,"  he  said,  with  tears  in 
his  own  eyes. 

Evelyn  sat  down  on  the  stone  and  waited 
until  he  was  out  of  sight.  Then  she  started 
on  a  hunt  for  the  wild  flowers  he  was  so  fond 
of.  The  tears  streamed  down  her  face  as  she 
walked ;  but  he  had  told  her  to  walk,  and  his 
word  was  law. 

When  he  came  back,  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  later,  he  found  her  waiting  on  the  rock, 


308       The  Things  that  Count 

apparently  quite  cheerful  and  composed,  with 
a  large  bunch  of  wild  flowers  in  her  hands. 
They  discussed  these  for  a  while,  not  because 
there  was  any  awkwardness,  but  because  they 
were  both  so  fond  of  flowers. 

"  How  was  your  patient  ?"  Evelyn  asked 
presently. 

"  She  is  not  my  patient,  poor  woman.  Mc- 
Kenzie  wanted  a  special  opinion  on  her  case." 

"  Why  do  you  say,  '  poor  woman'?"  she 
asked. 

"  It  was  because  of  what  she  has  before  her. 
Nothing  can  save  her  but  a  capital  operation, 
and  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  successful,  she  is 
in  such  poor  condition.  Still,  it  has  got  to  be 
done  immediately.  Every  day  lessens  her 
chances." 

11  When  ?"  Evelyn  asked. 

"  To-morrow,  at  eleven.  She  is  to  be 
brought  into  the  hospital  to-night.  I  would  n't 
risk  it  at  her  house.  I  am  to  perform  it." 

"  Diseases  of  women  are  your  specialty,  are 
they  not  ?  "  she  asked  simply. 

"  Yes.  Some  peculiar  circumstances  in  my 
life  made  me  feel  that  there  was  nothing  I 
wanted  to  do  so  much  as  to  lessen  their  suffer- 
ings in  any  way  I  could.  I  often  refuse  other 
cases,  but  never  a  woman  who  needs  me  be^ 
cause  of  her  womanhood." 


The  Gates  Ajar  309 

"  I  don't  understand  one  thing,"  Evelyn 
began  presently,  after  an  interval,  in  which  the 
Doctor  seemed  lost  in  thought.  "I  don't 
understand  how  a  man  can  do  as  much  work 
as  you  do  and  yet  seem  as  little  rushed.  You 
seldom  seem  in  a  hurry,  like  most  doctors." 

"  There  are  two  reasons  for  that.  One  is 
that  I  never  undertake  any  more  work  than  I 
can  do  easily  and,  therefore,  well.  I  send  in- 
numerable cases  to  other  doctors,  where  there 
is  no  need  of  my  special  knowledge  and  ex- 
perience. Then,  I  never  let  one  day's  work 
lap  over  on  the  next.  I  finish  up  each  day 
clean.  I  don't  think  a  man  who  is  half  asleep 
and  is  feeling  the  need  of  proper  food  can  do 
justice  to  a  serious  case.  '  Don't  bite  off  more 
than  you  can  chew,'  that  's  my  motto,  since 
you  like  them.  By  the  way,  I  have  started  to 
tell  you  a  dozen  times  that  I  met  your  friend 
Palmer  in  New  York  this  morning.  I  told 
you  what  I  went  for,  did  n't  I  ?  " 

*  Yes,  to  testify  in  that  will  case." 

;<  I  went  into  court,  and  was  surprised  to 
find  Palmer  there,  representing  Atherton  & 
Hunt,  who  are  the  attorneys  for  the  other 
heirs.  I  told  him  the  man  was  perfectly  sane, 
testified  to  that  effect,  and  that  his  clients 
had  n't  a  leg  to  stand  on.  He  said  that  was 
his  own  opinion,  and  I  invited  him  to  go  to 


310       The  Things  that  Count 

lunch  with  me  by  way  of  cementing  the  friend- 
ship that  is  to  be.  We  went,  and  had  a  very- 
pleasant  time  together;  at  least,  I  had.  I  took 
a  great  fancy  to  him.  He  was  very  much 
shocked  to  hear  of.  your  mother's  death,  and 
concerned  that  you  had  not  sent  him  word  of 
it.  He  wanted  me  to  give  you  his  sincere 
sympathy." 

"  Dear  Richard!"  Evelyn  remarked  paren- 
thetically. 

"  I  told  him  that  you  were  staying  in  my 
house,  and  invited  him  to  come  to  dinner  to- 
morrow night ;  but  he  declined,  without  giving 
any  reason  for  it.  I  did  n't  press  the  matter, 
as  I  thought  I  understood  it.  He  is  a  very 
fine  fellow,  Evelyn;  very  much  of  a  man,"  he 
added  suggestively. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I  know  that?"  she 
asked,  smiling  to  herself. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  he  inquired. 

"  I  was  amused  at  your  using  the  same 
words  about  him  that  he  used  about  you  that 
first  afternoon." 

"  I  liked  him  thoroughly,"  he  continued. 
"  I  don't  know  when  I  have  been  so  impressed 
with  a  fellow.  I  had  a  talk  with  Hunt  about 
him  (he  came  in  before  the  case  was  dismissed), 
and  he  says  he  will  go  far.  He  told  me  that 
Atwater  had  given  them  all  his  business 


The  Gates  Ajar  311 

because  Palmer  was  in  their  office,  and  under- 
stood the  ins  and  outs  of  it." 

'  That  is  probably  the  result  of  his  daughter's 
marriage — alliance,  I  suppose  one  ought  to  call 
it,"  said  Evelyn. 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  ought  to  repeat  it;  still, 
everbody  knows  it,  and,  of  course,  I  never 
heard  it  from  Richard.  Besides,  there  is  no 
harm  telling  you  things,"  and  she  gave  him  a 
short  account  of  Richard's  leaving  his  former 
employer. 

"  I  like  that,  I  like  that,"  the  Doctor  de- 
clared positively.  "  It  makes  me  think  even 
better  of  him." 

"  You  could  n't  think  too  well,"  she  re- 
sponded. 

"  He  is  in  love  with  you,"  he  asserted. 

"  Yes." 
'  He  wants  to  marry  you  ?  " 

"  He  does." 
4  There  is  no  chance  of  it  ? " 

"  Not  at  present — naturally,"  she  said,  with  a 
little  significant  laugh.  The  Doctor  laughed  too. 
Perhaps  later,"  he  said. 
I  came  very  near  caring  for  him  once,"  she 
explained.     "  But  he  believed  things  about  me 
that  were  not  true  (he  was  not  to  blame),  and 
did  not  strike  while  the  iron  was  hot." 


The  Things  that  Count 


"  And  so  it  cooled  off  ?" 

;<  Exactly.  Do  you  know  Mr.  Hunt,  or  did 
you  just  meet  him  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  have  known  him  for  some  time.  I  was 
called  into  a  consultation  about  the  case  of  his 
sister,  who  died  about  three  years  ago.  It  was 
perfectly  hopeless,  and  I  told  them  so.  He  is 
a  nice  fellow;  clever,  very  clever  in  his  way, 
but  not  made  of  the  stuff  Palmer  is.  Is  he  a 
friend  of  yours  ?  Why  do  you  laugh  ?  You 
seem  hilarious." 

"  Nothing;  only  I  came  near  marrying  him, 
too." 

"  How  many  more  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor, 
in  dismay. 

"  Only  these  two  from  inclination.  There 
were  several  for  other  considerations." 

"  And  you  did  n't  do  it  ?  " 

"  Apparently  not,  since  I  am  still  Miss 
Smith,  and  he  has  a  wife  of  his  own.  I  '11  tell 
you  about  it.  I  like  to  be  confidential  with 
you.  It  is  fun  confessing  my  love  affairs  to  a 
leather-hearted  antique  ;  and  so  safe.  I  think 
I  '11  call  you  Uncle.  '  Dr.  Gardner  '  is  so 
formal,  and  I  suppose  you  would  n't  let  me 
call  you  Tom  ?  " 

You  can  if  you  like,  if  you  don't  let  Mrs. 
John  Knox  hear  you.     She  'd  be  scandalised." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  should  dare.     I  'd  feel 


The  Gates  Ajar  313 

brave  about  it  when  you  were  n't  there ;  but 
I  'd  fall  back  on  '  I  say  '  in  your  bodily  pre- 
sence." 

"  Am  I  so  terrifying  ? " 

"  No,  but  you  are  so  old." 

"  Ah!  you  are  getting  even  with  me!  " 

11  Yes;  but  it  's  true,  too.  It  is  I  who  have 
the  advantage  of  you :  I  who  am  young,  with 
life  and  all  its  possibilities  before  me.  I  can 
feel,  I  can  love,  and  I  glory  in  it!  What  are 
you  ?  What  is  a  man  who  has  grown  too 
wise  for  the  only  thing  that  makes  life  endur- 
able ?  I  am  far  above  you.  I  would  not  look 
at  you." 

"  I  could  make  you  come  off  that  horse  in 
about  one  minute,"  he  exclaimed,  an  expres- 
sion that  she  had  never  seen  before  coming 
into  his  eyes,  and  a  fire  that  was  the  fire  of 
youth  showing  in  every  inch  of  him.  They 
looked  straight  into  each  other's  eyes  for  a 
quarter  of  a  minute;  then  he  dropped  his. 

"  God  help  me!  "  he  said  fervently,  "  what 
am  I  doing  ?  I  have  been  tempted  of  the 
devil."  Evelyn  gave  a  derisive,  triumphant 
laugh,  glorying  in  the  exercise  of  a  power  that 
had  thrown  him  off  his  guard. 

Listen  to  me,  Evelyn,"  he  continued 
sadly.  '  There  might  be,  there  would  be, 
moments  when  you  could  move  me;  but  after 


3H       The  Things  that  Count 

I  had  been  away  from  you  a  short  half-hour, 
you  would  find  that  I  was  the  same  leather- 
hearted  antique.  No  woman  could  gain  more 
than  a  momentary  hold  over  me  now.  That 
is  as  true  as  truth.  Don't  tempt  me.-" 

I  am  ashamed  of  myself!  "  she  murmured, 
turning  her  face  from  him.  '  My  name  ought 
to  have  stopped  before  the  last  syllable;  I  have 
so  much  original  sin  in  me." 

"  Ah,  that  is  only  mock  repentance!  You 
are  not  really  sorry  at  all.  I  know  you.  And 
you  said  that  you  would  always  be  sincere  with 
me!  " 

I  ought  to  have  said  that  my  better  self 
would  always  want  to  be.  I  might  have  known 
that  I  could  n't  sit  on  a  stool  and  keep  my 
frock  clean  for  more  than  so  long.  I  always 
slip  down  and  make  mud  pies."  The  Doctor 
laughed. 

'  Tell  me  about  Hunt.  We  won't  talk 
about  you  and  me  any  longer,"  he  said. 

"  I  was  a  big  fool,"  she  added,  when  she  had 
told  her  little  story  with  the  supplement  of  its 
effect  on  her  relations  with  Richard.  "  I  was 
a  big  fool;  but  I  'm  very  glad  I  was.  I  should 
not  like  to  have  married  Arthur  Hunt." 

He  is  an  uncommonly  nice  fellow,  and  has  a 
future  in  his  profession,"  protested  the  Doctor. 

"  No  doubt;  but  he  is  too  conventional,  too 


The  Gates  Ajar  3J5 

cut-and-dried,  too  limited  for  me  now.  He 
thinks  too  much  of  what  other  people  think. 
There  were  too  many  things  that  he  would  not 
have  liked  to  see  a  wife  or  a  sister  of  his  do — 
such  things  as  going  to  races,  for  instance. 
I  'd  never  want  to  go;  I  think  they  are  the 
stupidest  things  on  earth ;  but  I  hate  taking 
what  you  do  or  don't  do  so  seriously.  I  did  n't 
mind  it  then — his  attitude — because  I  was  just 
about  where  he  was;  but  it  would  drive  me 
crazy  now." 

'  What  set  you  off  on  this  new  tack,  this 
thinking  things  out  for  yourself  ?  "  asked  the 
Doctor,  with  interest. 

I  don't  know;  nothing  in  particular.  It 
just  growed." 

:<  I  have  three  visits  to  make  before  supper, 
so  you  had  better  not  wait  for  me,"  he  said  as 
he  drove  up  in  front  of  his  house. 

'  Why  don't  you  go  this  evening  ?  " 

I  can't.  I  have  to  hold  an  office  hour,  to 
make  up  for  the  one  I  did  n't  have  this  morn- 
ing. Tell  Mrs.  Gordon  not  to  keep  anything 
hot  for  me.  I  had  such  a  late,  hearty  lunch 
that  I  am  not  hungry.  She  can  give  me  some- 
thing to  eat  after  my  office  hour.  Until  to- 
morrow, then." 

In  a  minute  he  had  become  all  doctor  again, 
and  Evelyn  found  it  hard  to  believe  that  she 


316       The  Things  that  Count 

had  ever  roused  a  responsive  spark  in  him. 
She  was  sure  that  he  had  forgotten  her  exist- 
ence before  he  had  reached  the  corner. 

She  was  astonished  at  herself  that  she  did 
not  fejel  more  unhappy  at  the  afternoon's 
occurrences.  The  truth  was  that  she  had  felt 
her  love  to  be  hopeless  so  strongly  beforehand 
that  there  had  been  no  shock  at  its  being  put 
into  words.  Then,  she  was  full  of  the  sensa- 
tion of  nearness  to  him,  such  as  she  had  never 
felt  before.  He  had  let  her  come  very  close, 
and  that  was  a  great  joy  for  all  time ;  and  if  he 
did  not  love  her,  he  certainly  loved  no  other 
woman.  Then,  too,  in  spite  of  reason  and 
every  other  consideration,  his  momentary  loss 
of  self-control  had  given  life  to  a  hope  that  she 
could  not  stifle.  Most  important  of  all,  nothing 
could  take  away  the  anticipatory  delight  of  two 
more  days  of  intimate  companionship.  She 
would  be  happy  those  two  days;  and,  after 
that,  let  come  what  might 


CHAPTER  XVI 

FURTHER   GLIMPSES   OF   HEAVEN 

ALAS,  for  anticipations!  The  next  day  the 
Doctor  was  off  before  Evelyn  was  up. 
He  came  back  for  his  office  hour,  but  immedi- 
ately went  away  again,  leaving  orders  not  to 
wait  dinner  for  him,  as  he  might  not  be  home. 
He  did  not  appear  again  till  just  supper  time, 
and  at  this  meal  he  was  so  preoccupied  that 
he  hardly  seemed  to  be  aware  of  her  existence. 
Evelyn  felt  proud  and  hurt,  and  made  no 
efforts  to  attract  his  attention.  Later  on,  her 
mood  changed,  as  such  moods  have  a  way  of 
doing.  She  felt  that  she  could  not  go  to  bed 
until  she  had  had  a  word  with  him.  She  went 
to  her  room  at  ten  o'clock,  but  after  Mrs. 
Gordon  had  gone  to  bed  on  the  floor  above, 
she  went  across  the  hall  into  the  library,  a 
large  room  which  extended  all  across  the  back 
of  the  second  story.  This  was  the  Doctor's 
especial  sanctum,  and  he  had  given  her  the 

317 


3i8       The  Things  that  Count 

freedom  of  it.  The  light  was  always  left  lit 
there  for  him,  so  he  was  sure  to  come  to  put  it 
out  before  he  went  to  bed. 

It  was  half-past  eleven  before  he  came  in. 
Evelyn  was  sitting  in  a  big  leather  chair  by  his 
study  table,  making  a  pretext  of  reading. 

'  What  are  you  doing  up  at  this  hour  ?  You 
ought  to  be  in  bed,"  he  said,  not  unkindly, 
but  as  if  his  thoughts  were  miles  away;  and, 
going  to  the  bookcase  without  waiting  for  her 
to  answer,  he  pulled  out  a  big  leather-covered 
volume,  found  a  certain  place  in  it,  and  began 
to  read  diligently  without  stopping  to  sit 
down. 

"  Do  you  mind  my  being  here  ?  "  she  asked  ; 
but  he  paid  no  attention. 

She  sat  where  she  was  for  five  minutes  before 
she  decided  that  her  dignity  would  not  allow 
her  to  remain  another  second.  She  rose  to 
her  feet,  but  before  she  reached  the  door  the 
Doctor  came  to  the  table  and  threw  his  book 
down  upon  it  with  a  slam. 

"  Are  you  going  ?  "  he  asked  indifferently. 
Evelyn  nodded.  She  did  not  dare  speak,  for 
fear  that  she  should  burst  into  tears.  He 
looked  at  her  sharply;  then  he  took  a  long 
step  or  two  across  the  room,  seized  her  gently 
by  the  arm,  led  her  back,  and  put  her  in  the 
chair  she  had  just  left.  Next  he  took  a  clean 


Further  Glimpses  of  Heaven  319 

pocket   handkerchief   out  of  his  pocket,   and 
spread  it  on  her  lap. 

"  There,  cry  if  you  want  to,"  he  said,  with 
the  kindly,  affectionate  intonation  that  she  had 
missed  all  day.  "  Don't  mind  me.  I  am 
used  to  that  sort  of  thing.  The  women's  tears 
I  have  seen  shed  would  make  an  ocean;  and 
the  men's,  too,  they  would  make " 

"  A  Great  Salt  Lake,"  put  in  Evelyn  as  he 
paused  for  a  comparison.  The  elaborate 
preparation  had  taken  away  from  her  all  desire 
to  cry. 

"Well,  what  's  the  matter?"  he  asked 
cheerfully.  'Too  much  preoccupation?" 
Evelyn  nodded. 

'  You   hurt  my  feelings,"  she  said  plaint- 
ively. 

Poor  little  feelings!  It  would  always  be 
so,  Evelyn, ""he  added  seriously.  '  My  pro- 
fession will  always  be  first  with  me.  I  think 
that  it  is  unpardonable,  myself,  to  pick  people 
up  and  then  drop  them,  the  way  I  have  to, 
and  that  is  why  I  don't  intend  to  do  any  pick- 
ing up." 

If  you  would  only  tell  me  what  you  are  so 
absorbed  in,  I  should  n't  feel  so  left  out  in  the 
cold,"  she  protested.  The  Doctor  laughed. 

'  You  poor  child!     You  are  abused!     It  's 
the  woman  I  went  to  see  yesterday.    I  operated 


320       The  Things  that  Count 

on  her  this  morning,  and  I  am  afraid  that  she 
is  going  to  die.  She  has  only  one  chance  in 
about  twenty  of  pulling  through.  It  is  a  com- 
fort to  know  that  she  could  not  have  lived 
anyway.  That  was  established  beyond  doubt 
by  the  operation.  She  could  not  have  lived 
more  than  six  weeks  at  the  most,  and  would 
have  suffered  the  agonies  of  the  damned. 
Well,  we  have  done  everything  that  human 
skill  can  do,  and  I  won't  think  of  her  again 
until  morning.*' 

"  Can  you  do  that:  put  something  you  are 
so  absorbed  in  entirely  out  of  your  mind  ?" 
she  asked  in  amazement. 

"  I  do  it  every  night  of  my  life.  That  is 
why  I  don't  look  my  years,"  he  added,  with  a 
smile.  "  But,  come,  I  'm  dead  tired,  too  tired 
to  talk.  Don't  you  want  to  read  to  me  for 
half  an  hour,  to  make  me  sleepy  ?  " 

"Yes,  indeed!"  she  answered  eagerly: 
"  What  shall  it  be?" 

"  Anything  you  like,  except  stories;  I  don't 
care  for  those  much  nowadays.  There  are 
books  enough  here,  and  nobody  ever  reads 
them.  It  seems  strange  to  me  that  something 
I  once  cared  so  much  about  should  have  passed 
so  completely  out  of  my  life." 

"  I  will  read  you  what  I  was  just  reading 
when  you  came  in,  the  Rubaiyat.  I  heard  it 


Further  Glimpses  of  Heaven  321 

set  to  music, — The  Persian  Garden,  you  know, 
— and  I  was  ashamed  that  I  was  so  unfamiliar 
with  it.  I  never  read  a  line  of  it  before  to- 
night. I  have  heard  it  quoted  a  great  deal,  of 
course;  there  is  a  certain  kind  of  man  who 
always  quotes  it  to  you  in  romantic  situations. 
Indeed,  I  heard  a  girl  describe  a  man  as  '  the 
only  man  who  had  never  quoted  the  Rubaiyat 
to  her.'" 

"  I  have  n't  opened  it  for  twenty  years," 
said  the  Doctor,  throwing  himself  on  the 
leather-covered  sofa  near  which  her  chair  was 
standing,  and  putting  his  arms  under  his  head. 
"  Now,  fire  ahead,"  he  said. 

Evelyn  read  slowly,  bringing  out  the  mean- 
ing of  each  phrase. 

"  Ah,  that  is  fine!  I  had  forgotten  that  it 
was  so  good,"  he  said,  after  a  little. 

'  There  was  the  Door  to  which  I  found  no  key, 
There  was  the  Veil  through  which  I  might  not  see/ 

he  quoted.  "  And  there  are  fools  who  think 
they  know  it  all!  Read  me  that  again,"  he 
said  presently,  when  she  had  gone  on  farther. 
Evelyn  repeated : 

"  I  sent  my  soul  through  the  Invisible 

Some  secret  of  that  After-Life  to  spell : 
And  by  and  by  my  Soul  returned  to  me, 

And  answer'd,  *  I  Myself  am  Heav'n  and  Hell ' : 


322       The  Things  that  Count 

"  Heav'n  but  the  Vision  of  fulfill'd  Desire, 
And  Hell  the  Shadow  of  a  Soul  on  fire 
Cast  on  the  Darkness  into  which  Ourselves, 
So  late  emerg'd  from,  shall  so  soon  expire.' " 

She  slipped  her  hand  into  his  as  it  projected 
beside  his  head,  and  he  held  it  fast. 

"  '  The  Vision  of  fulfill'd  Desire.'  I  wonder 
if  my  fulfilled  desire  would  not  have  been  a 
hell  to  me,"  he  said,  as  she  paused  after  the 
last  line.  "  I  am  in  a  strange  mood  to-night," 
he  went  on,  as  she  did  not  answer.  "  Some- 
thing that  happened  to-day  brought  up  some- 
thing that  happened  years  ago  very  vividly 
before  me.  Here,  finish  the  thing,  and  then 
you  must  go  to  bed.  I  'm  a  nice  doctor,  keep- 
ing you  from  sleep  to  amuse  me." 

"  But  I  am  slept  out,"  she  protested.  "  I 
have  been  sleeping  most  of  the  time  since  I 
have  been  here." 

"  Well,  I  want  some  sleep  myself,  then." 
Evelyn  removed  her  hand,  and  read  through 
to  the  end. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  Liza  Lehmann's  music 
to  this  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  but  I  'dlike  to." 

"  Do  you  care  for  music  ?  " 

"  Do  I  !  It  has  more  power  over  me  than 
anything  else.  I  always  manage  a  symphony 
concert  and  one  or  two  operas  every  winter." 


Further  Glimpses  of  Heaven  323 

"  Don't  get  up,"  Evelyn  said  as  she  rose  to 

g°- 

'  You  credit  me  with  better  manners  than 

I  have,"  he  replied  laughing.  "  I  was  n't 
dreaming  of  getting  up." 

"  You  have  atrocious  manners!  "  she  com- 
mented. '  You  ought  to  take  some  lessons 
from  Richard  Palmer.  He  has  the  nicest 
manners  of  any  man  I  know  —  just  the  right 
amount  of  them." 

"  Me  take  lessons  of  a  kid  like  that!  "  the 
Doctor  exclaimed  indignantly. 

"  He  is  thirty  years  old." 

"  And  I  am  nearly  twenty  years  older. 
How  do  you  know  that  I  did  n't  have  good 
manners  when  I  was  his  age  ?  " 

"  I  'd  wager  my  dream  of  being  rich  some 
day  that  you  did  n't." 

"  Perhaps  not.  Well,  good-night,  if  you 
insist  on  going." 

"  I  thought  I  was  sent,"  she  replied  de- 
murely. 

"  So  you  were.  I  had  forgotten."  Evelyn 
turned  when  she  reached  the  door. 

"  Dr.  Gardner,"  she  began,  with  apparent 
timidity. 

"  Well,  you  shy  little  thing,"  he  answered. 

"  I  just  wanted  to  call  your  attention  to  the 
fact  that  to-morrow  is  my  last  day  here,  and 


324       The  Things  that  Count 

that  it  would  be  desirable  if  you  remembered 
that  you  had  a  guest." 

'  Very  well,"  he  replied  with  mock  solemn- 
ity. "  I  will  make  a  memorandum  of  it."  He 
took  a  note-book  out  of  his  pocket,  and  wrote 
something  in  it. 

"  Let  me  see,"  she  pleaded,  coming  back. 

Let  you  into  my  secrets  ?  Never."  He 
held  the  book  in  his  hand,  which  he  threw  over 
his  head  again.  In  half  a  second  Evelyn  was 
behind  him,  and  had  snatched  it  from  him. 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  dis- 
appointment when  she  had  read  the  entry. 
"  Here;  take  your  old  book!  "  and  she  threw 
it  at  him. 

'Talk  about  manners!"  exclaimed  the 
Doctor,  as  he  caught  it.  What  she  had  read 
was,  "  Remember  to  send  tonic  to  Mrs. 
Murphy."  '  Well,  Miss  Impetuosity,  what 
do  you  want  me  to  do  to  celebrate  to- 
morrow ?"  he  continued. 

"  I  am  not  exacting.  Just  to  remember  my 
existence  during  the  day  is  all  I  ask.  And  if 
you  could  manage  to  be  at  home  part  of  the 
evening — the  last  part — it  would  be  very  nice." 

"  I  will.     I  will  make  a  point  of  it." 

"  No;  I  don't  want  you  to  do  that.  I  want 
you  to  do  it  because  you  want  to.  Don't  you 
want  to  ?" 


Further  Glimpses  of  Heaven  325 

'  Very  much — the  present  moment." 

Oh!  "  exclaimed  Evelyn,  speechless  with 
indignation,  going  out  and  closing  the  door, 
not  too  softly,  behind  her.  It  was  an  in- 
soluble mystery  to  her,  as  to  many  a  woman 
before  her,  that  moments  which  were  so  filled 
to  the  brim  with  life,  so  tense  with  excitement 
for  her,  should  not  be  equally  desired  and 
sought  after  by  the  mortal  who  lived  them 
with  her. 

The  Doctor  was  very  friendly  and  approach- 
able the  next  day  in  the  few  minutes  she  saw 
him.  His  patient  was  decidedly  stronger;  the 
chances  in  her  favour  were  going  up,  and  his 
spirits  went  up  with  them.  He  went  out  for 
a  couple  of  calls  after  supper,  but  promised  to 
be  back  by  nine  o'clock.  After  he  had  gone, 
Evelyn  went  over  to  Mrs.  Pinkerton's,  and  got 
her  guitar,  and  established  herself  in  the 
library  to  await  his  return.  She  brought  the 
dogs  up  from  the  kitchen,  where  they  usually 
stayed  in  their  master's  absence,  to  keep  her 
company.  The  night  was  chilly,  and  Mrs. 
Gordon  had  lit  the  wood  fire,  as  the  Doctor 
liked  one  whenever  there  was  the  slightest 
excuse. 

After  Mrs.  Gordon  had  gone  up-stairs,  Evelyn 
put  out  the  gas,  which  blazed  in  the  chandelier 
overhead,  leaving  the  room  lit  only  by  the 


326       The  Things  that  Count 

lamp  on  the  table  and  the  bright  fire-light.  It 
was  nearly  ten  o'clock  before  the  Doctor  came 
in. 

"  Well,  this  is  comfortable!  "  he  exclaimed, 
after  a  rapturous  greeting  from  the  dogs,  and 
a  quieter  one  from  Evelyn.  '  What  have  you 
done  to  the  room  ?  " 

"  Only  put  out  those  hideous  high  lights." 

"It  's  a  great  improvement.  Well,  Mrs. 
Dennison  is  better.  It  's  too  soon  to  say,  but 
I  really  think  we  are  going  to  pull  her  through. 
What  is  that  ?  "  he  broke  off,  his  keen  eyes 
spying  Evelyn's  guitar,  which  was  resting 
against  the  bookcase. 

"  My  guitar.  I  brought  it  over  to  sing  to 
you." 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  could  sing." 

"  You  don't  know  everything  about  me. 
My  voice  is  considered  my  best  point.  My 
specialty  is  coon  songs;  but  I  won't  favour 
you  with  those  to-night.  What  kind  of  songs 
do  you  like  best  ?  " 

"  German  songs.  They  make  me  think  of 
the  time  I  was  studying  there ;  not  that  I  was 
happy  then  —  quite  the  contrary." 

"  '  I  was  not  happy,  but  knew  not  then  that 
happy  I  was  never  doomed  to  be,'  "  quoted 
Evelyn. 

"  That    is    always   the    difference    between 


Further  Glimpses  of  Heaven  327 

youth  and  age,"  he  responded.  '  Well,  I  am 
tired,  or  lazy,  or  something.  I  am  going  to  lie 
down  here  on  the  sofa  in  front  of  the  fire,  and 
let  you  sing  to  me.  Here,  doggies,  you  'd 
better  stretch  yourselves  out  on  the  rug  for 
another  nap.  I  don't  want  you  on  top  of  me." 
Evelyn  sang  a  little  song  of  Heine's. 

"  Why  have  n't  you  sung  to  me  before  ?  " 
the  Doctor  exclaimed  indignantly,  when  she 
had  finished.  ;<  I  had  no  idea  you  could  sing 
like  that.  I  suppose  you  were  saving  it  up  for 
an  effect." 

"  No,  truly,"  she  answered  honestly.  "  But 
I  thought  until  last  night  that  you  did  n't  care 
for  music.  I  had  never  heard  you  talk  about 
it." 

'  There  are  so  many  things  to  talk  about, 
and  so  little  time,"  he  answered.  "  Besides,  I 
don't  think  I  ever  talk  about  the  things  I  care 
about  most.  Sing  some  more." 

She  sang  for  a  long  time,  ending  up  with  a 
little  Norwegian  lullaby.  When  she  had 
finished  it,  she  saw  that  he  was  fast  asleep. 
All  the  lines  were  smoothed  out  of  his  face. 
He  looked  very  peaceful  and  happy,  as  he  lay 
there  with  the  light  of  the  fire  upon  him. 
Evelyn  sat  there  on  an  embroidered  ottoman, 
the  work  of  one  of  his  great-aunts,  until  nearly 
twelve  o'clock.  She  grew  very  restless  for  the 


328       The  Things  that  Count 

last  half-hour.  It  seemed  such  a  waste  of  those 
precious  minutes,  the  last  she  might  ever  have 
with  him,  and  yet  she  could  not  grudge  him 
the  sleep  he  needed,  although  in  it  he  seemed 
far  away  and  unapproachable.  Even  the  dogs 
appeared  to  have  settled  down  for  the  night. 
She  thought  that  she  would  go  to  bed,  but  she 
did  not  like  to  leave  him  there  asleep.  She 
was  afraid  that  he  might  sleep  until  the  room 
grew  cold ;  but  still  she  hated  to  rouse  him. 
At  last  the  log  on  the  fire  parted  in  the  middle, 
and  the  two  ends  falling  on  the  hearth  awak- 
ened him. 

"  I  have  n't  been  asleep,"  he  protested 
quickly,  when  he  opened  his  eyes  and  saw  her 
standing  there,  about  to  go  to  attend  to  the 
fire. 

"  Oh,  no;  not  at  all.  You  just  shut  your 
eyes  to  keep  out  the  light  of  the  fire,  and  left 
them  so  for  an  hour." 

"  You  poor  thing!  Why  did  n't  you  go  to 
bed  ? " 

"  I  am  going  now.  Good-night,  Dr.  Gard- 
ner. I  am  glad  you  have  enjoyed  your  eve- 
ning." He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  took  both  her 
hands. 

"  Don't  be  cross  to  me,"  he  pleaded.  "  If 
you  knew  how  tired  I  was!  Why,  there  are 
tears  in  your  eyes.  You  silly  child !  "  She 


Further  Glimpses  of  Heaven  329 

buried  her  face  in  his  shoulder  for  a  second. 
Then  she  raised  it. 

"  Kiss  me;  kiss  me  as  if  I  were  your  daugh- 
ter. No,  not  on  my  cheek,  on  my  lips,"  she 
said  quietly.  He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and 
kissed  her.  The  fervour  with  which  she  re- 
turned it  evidently  startled  him,  together  with 
the  look  on  the  face  she  raised  to  his. 

"  I  have  done  wrong! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
note  of  pain  in  his  voice.  "  I  will  never  kiss 
you  again.  It  means  one  thing  to  me,  and 
another  to  you.  I  have  been  wrong,  very 
wrong,  all  along;  but  I  thought  it  was  for  a 
few  days  only,  and  I  hated  to  send  you  away, 
or  be  unkind  to  you.  I  don't  think  I  have 
ever  fully  realised  before  that  this  thing  could 
be  serious  with  you.  It  seemed  preposterous. 
I  thought  you  would  care  less  as  you  knew  me 
more,  and  saw  what  a  confirmed  old  fogy  I  was. 
I  am  afraid  you  have  a  great  deal  to  forgive  me 
for,  Evelyn." 

;<  No,  no!  "  she  protested. 

"  Yes,  yes!  I  wonder  if  you  realise  that  I 
never  even  suspected  this  thing  until  after  the 
first  night  you  were  here.  I  have  had  my 
women  patients  fancy  me,  of  course  —  every 
doctor  has  that  sort  of  thing  to  contend  with; 
and  if  you  had  been  a  sentimental  old  maid, 
or  a  forlorn  widow,  or  a  girl  who  had  never 


330       The  Things  that  Count 

known  a  man  before,  I  should  have  been 
on  my  guard ;  but  the  idea  that  you,  with 
all  your  prettiness,  your  personal  importance, 
your  savoir  faire,  your  charming  little  ways, 
your  experiences  with  men  of  the  world, 
could  seriously  care  for  a  man  like  me,  old 
enough  to  be  your  father,  and  with  no  know- 
ledge of  the  niceties  of  life  that  mean  so 
much  to  you ;  that  you,  being  such  as  you  are, 
should  care  for  me,  such  as  I  am,  was  incon- 
ceivable. I  should  have  called  myself  a  con- 
ceited old  ass  if  the  thought  had  ever  come  to 
me.  But  the  miracle  has  happened,  and  I  am 
heartily  sorry  for  it." 

"  Are  you  as  sorry  for  it  as  you  think  you 
are  ?  "  she  asked  wistfully. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am.  And  that  is  the  worst 
of  all,  is  n't  it  ?  You  must  go  to-morrow, 
dear  girl.  I  will  come  to  see  you  once,  for 
there  are  some  things  about  myself  that  I 
think  I  'd  better  tell  you,  and  then  you  must 
go  your  way,  and  I  mine.  I  hope — I  hope  by 
all  I  hold  sacred — that  I  shall  never  be  tempted 
to  forget  myself  again.  Good-night." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

RETROSPECTIVE 

THE  Doctor  went  off  early  the  next  morn- 
ing; but  he  left  word  with  Mrs.  Gordon 
that  Evelyn  was  not  to  go  back  to  Mrs.  Pinker- 
ton's  until  after  she  had  had  her  dinner.  He 
himself  would  not  be  home.  He  also  left  a 
message  to  the  effect  that  he  would  try  to 
come  to  see  her  the  next  evening.  She  spent 
the  morning  finishing  the  marking  of  some  new 
towels  that  she  had  insisted  on  doing  for  Mrs. 
Gordon.  After  lunch,  she  packed  up  her  few 
possessions,  and  started  on  her  journey  of  half 
a  block  with  a  stronger  sense  of  removal  than 
she  had  ever  had  on  setting  out  on  one  of  a 
thousand  miles. 

Mrs.  Pinkerton  met  her  in  the  hall,  and  went 
up-stairs  with  her.  She  made  mysterious  allu- 
sions, which  were  explained  when  she  opened 
the  door  of  Evelyn's  room,  and  disclosed  a 
bowl  of  lilies  of  the  valley  on  the  table.  The 

331 


33 2       The  Things  that  Count 

Doctor  had  brought  them,  she  explained,  and 
had  asked  her  to  keep  an  eye  on  Miss  Smith — 
as  if  she  would  n't  do  so,  anyway!  He  re- 
gretted that  he  himself  could  n't  look  after  her 
a  little,  but  Mrs.  Pinkerton  knew  that  his  busi- 
ness was  with  sick  people,  not  with  well  ones. 
He  would  try  to  come  to  see  Miss  Smith  once 
or  twice  more,  until  she  got  over  the  first 
loneliness,  but  after  that  he  'd  have  to  trust 
her  to  Mrs.  Pinkerton. 

Evelyn  bent  her  face  over  the  lilies  to  hide 
the  tears  that  came  into  her  eyes  at  his 
thoughtfulness  for  her,  and  his  delicacy  in 
shielding  her  from  the  gossip  of  the  house.  If 
there  had  been  any  talk,  his  words  would  con- 
vince her  good  neighbours  that  they  had  been 
mistaken. 

She  remarked  on  the  cleaning  the  room  had 
evidently  had  in  her  absence,  and  found  that 
Miss  Stevens  had  done  it.  She  went  down  to 
thank  her  as  soon  as  she  had  put  her  things 
away,  and,  indirectly,  to  introduce  the  ques- 
tion of  some  work.  Miss  Stevens  was  delighted 
with  the  idea.  She  needed  some  extra  help, 
and  Evelyn's  taste  had  long  been  her  admira- 
tion. She  would  pay  her  a  dollar  and  a  quar- 
ter a  day,  which  was  more  than  she  paid  her 
sewing  girls.  Evelyn  said  that  she  would 
begin  work  on  Monday,  as  she  wanted  to 


Retrospective  333 

devote  the  rest  of  the  week  to  renovating  a 
black  gown  to  wear  on  the  street. 

She  got  it  out  immediately,  determined  not 
to  be  idle  a  moment.  It  occurred  to  her  as  she 
sewed  that  nothing  typified  the  change  that  had 
been  going  on  in  her  more  than  her  attitude 
towards  mourning.  Once  it  would  have  seemed 
essential  to  her;  she  would  have  made  any 
sacrifices  for  the  proper  amount  of  crepe  and 
black  edges.  Now,  it  all  seemed  so  purely  a 
meaningless  form,  that  she  had  difficulty  in 
rousing  herself  to  get  a  black  gown  and  hat 
ready  for  the  street.  Fortunately,  she  had 
some  thin  black  and  white  clothes  that  she 
could  wear  when  the  weather  grew  warmer. 
She  did  not  care  what  she  wore  in  the  house. 
One  of  Miss  Stevens's  sewing  girls  was  in 
mourning,  and  the  dusty  bands  of  crepe  on 
her  rusty  black  cashmere  seemed  out  of  place 
in  the  workroom.  '  I  suppose  she  felt  that 
she  had  to  have  them,  just  as  I  used  to  feel 
that  I  had  to  have  things,"  Evelyn  said  to 
herself.  ;<  I  wonder  if  it  seemed  as  absurd  to 
my  friends,  my  thinking  I  had  to  have  cob- 
webby handkerchiefs  and  sleeves  of  the  latest 
pattern,  as  her  thinking  she  has  to  have  mourn- 
ing does  to  me.  The  idea  of  adding  extra 
financial  worries  to  the  sorrows  and  neces- 
sary worries  of  a  real  bereavement  by  getting 


334       The  Things  that  Count 

mourning  for  the  whole  family!  How  little 
sense  poor  people  have!  How  little  sense  I 
have  had  all  my  life!  "  she  added  regretfully. 

She  could  not  imagine  herself  going  back  to 
her  old  life,  and  devoting  herself  to  the  deifica- 
tion of  the  trivial  once  more.  The  life  before 
her  might  be  dreary  (it  would  seem  unspeak- 
ably dreary  to  one  who  did  not  know  of  its 
hidden  charm) ;  but,  at  least,  it  was  independ- 
ent. She  could  really  be  herself,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life.  She  was  under  no  obligations 
to  make  herself  agreeable  to  anyone. 

Evelyn  felt  positively  happy  that  afternoon, 
as  she  sat  there  sewing.  Dr.  Gardner  would 
come  to  see  her  once  more;  she  had  that  be- 
fore her ;  afterwards,  no  matter  how  determined 
he  was  that  their  relation  should  come  to  an 
end,  there  would  be  accidental  meetings;  there 
could  not  help  being  when  two  people  lived 
within  a  block  of  each  other.  She  would  at 
least  see  him  drive  by  every  day.  And  no  one 
could  tell  what  might  not  happen.  He  might 
not  find  himself  so  self-sufficient,  now  that  he 
had  had  a  taste  of  companionship.  Perhaps 
the  library  would  seem  lonely  to  him  when  he 
came  back  at  night ;  and  Mavis's  moist,  doggy 
kisses  might  pall  after  the  embraces  of  a  pair 
of  soft,  warm  arms. 

The  next   afternoon   she  had  a  visit  from 


Retrospective  335 

Clara,  who  came  over  to  get  her  mother's  few 
possessions,  which  Evelyn  had  packed  in 
readiness  for  her.  She  seemed  happy  in  her 
married  life,  but  was  evidently  mourning  for 
her  mother  sincerely,  and  blaming  herself  that 
she  had  left  her  when  she  did.  Evelyn  con- 
soled her  to  the  best  of  her  ability. 

That  evening,  instead  of  the  Doctor,  Maria 
came,  bringing  a  note,  saying  that  he  found  it 
impossible  to  get  around  that  evening,  but 
that  he  would  try  to  come  the  next  morning, 
if  she  would  let  him  come  early.  She  had 
been  in  a  state  of  such  intensity  of  expectation 
that  her  first  sensation  was  one  of  relief  from 
strain.  After  that,  disappointment  came,  but. 
she  soon  consoled  herself  with  the  thought 
that  his  visit  would  not  be  over  so  soon.  He 
came  the  next  morning  at  about  ten  o'clock. 
Evelyn  had  been  trying  to  mend  some  stock- 
ings, but  her  hands  had  trembled  so  that  she 
had  been  forced  to  put  her  work  down.  Her 
head  was  hot,  and  her  hands  and  feet  icy  cold 
with  excitement.  Every  step  on  the  stairs  or 
in  the  street  outside  set  her  heart  beating  so 
violently  that  it  was  painful.  Once  the  door- 
bell rang,  and  the  strain,  until  she  heard  a 
shrill  woman's  voice  in  the  hall,  was  terrible. 
Finally  she  flung  herself  face  downward  on  the 
bed.  The  suspense  was  so  acute  that  she  would 


336       The  Things  that  Count 

have  felt  it  a  relief  to  know  that  he  was  not 
coming.  She  was  still  lying  there,  clutching 
the  counterpane,  when  she  heard  a  ring  at  the 
door-bell  with  a  quality  in  it  that  could  not  be 
mistaken.  She  wondered  that  she  could  have 
been  deceived  for  a  second  in  the  other.  She 
rose  quickly,  went  to  the  glass,  and  smoothed 
her  hair.  Then  she  opened  the  door. 

'  Well,"  he  said,  as  he  came  up  the  stairs, 
"  How  are  you  ?  I  just  dropped  in  a  moment 
to  say  that  I  could  n't  come  this  morning." 
Evelyn  could  not  say  a  word ;  she  felt  so  dis- 
appointed and  so  hurt  that  he  should  put  off 
his  visit  with  her  in  this  easy  way  for  anything 
that  came  along.  "  Would  you  rather  I  did  n't 
come  at  all  ?  "  he  asked  quickly,  evidently 
recognising  her  state  of  mind. 

'  Yes,"  she  answered  quietly. 

'  Very  well,"  he  said  gently,  and  started  to 
go  down-stairs  again.  Evelyn  felt  desperate. 
She  longed  to  call  him  back,  but  her  pride 
would  not  let  her.  She  stood  there  motion- 
less, with  much  the  same  feeling  with  which  a 
shipwrecked  man  who  had  lost  his  voice  might 
watch  a  ship  sail  by  which  he  could  not  hail. 

Half-way  down,  he  turned  and  came  back. 
He  took  her  hand  as  she  stood  there  in  the 
doorway. 

"  Don't  be  so  silly,"  he  said  affectionately. 


Retrospective  337 

'  We  are  not  two  children.  I  shall  be  here  as 
near  three  this  afternoon  as  I  can  manage  it,  if 
nothing  prevents.  I  never  let  anything  inter- 
fere with  my  duty  to  my  patients,  you  know," 
he  added,  a  little  severely.  "  Go  and  take  a 
walk  into  the  country.  It  will  do  you  good 
this  lovely,  sunshiny  morning.  I  will  tell  you 
where  to  go.  Do  you  want  me  to  ?  "  he  went 
on  as  she  did  not  answer. 

Yes,  do,"  she  said.  "  I  will  go  anywhere 
you  say.  I  will  stop  at  your  house  and  invite 
Mavis  and  Wink  to  go  with  me,"  she  added, 
when  he  had  laid  out  a  route  for  her. 

"  I  wish  you  would.  A  walk  is  such  a  de- 
light to  them.  What  are  you  planning  to  have 
for  dinner  ? "  he  asked  abruptly. 

'  I  call  that  an  impertinent  question.  I 
don't  intend  to  tell  you,"  she  returned,  re- 
covering a  little  of  her  usual  spirit. 

Is  it  tea  and  toast  and  honey  ?  "  he  per- 
sisted. 

41  Well,  what  if  it  is  ?  "  she  asked  defiantly. 
It    is    wicked,"    he    remarked   solemnly. 
Evelyn  went  over  to  the  bureau,  opened  the 
top  drawer,  and  took  out  her  purse. 

Look  here,"  she  said,  emptying  its  con- 
tents on  the  table.     There  were  half-a-dozen 
nickels  and  ten-cent  pieces  and  a  few  pennies. 
That  is  every  cent  of  money  I  have  in  the 


The  Things  that  Count 


world  until  I  can  earn  more.  I  will  accept 
nothing  from  anyone.  Now,  don't  talk  to  me 
about  its  being  wicked  not  to  buy  things  for 
which  I  have  not  the  money  to  pay."  The 
Doctor  shook  his  head  sadly,  but  said  nothing 
except  : 

1  Until  three,  then,"  and  made  his  way 
down-stairs  again. 

Her  first  thought  after  he  had  left  her  was 
that  she  would  have  to  go  through  the  same 
agony  of  suspense  again  that  afternoon  ;  but 
presently,  to  her  surprise,  she  found  that  she 
felt  calm  instead  of  excited  :  an  effect  which 
his  bodily  presence  always  had  upon  her,  while 
the  idea  of  him  was  unbearably  stimulating. 
She  took  the  dogs  and  went  to  walk,  as  he  had 
suggested,  gathering  a  great  bunch  of  spring 
flowers,  and  getting  real  enjoyment  out  of  the 
beauty  of  the  day  and  the  dogs'  ecstasies  of 
delight.  After  her  simple  little  lunch,  she  sat 
down  quite  tranquilly  to  wait  for  his  coming. 

'  Well/'  he  said,  when  he  arrived,  a  few 
minutes  after  three;  "  here  I  am,  at  last,  and 
without  another  thing  to  do  this  afternoon. 
How  pleasant  it  is  in  here;  how  still  and  peace- 
ful! It  is  such  a  comfort  to  have  the  streets 
so  quiet.  Do  you  know,  far  away  from  it  as  I 
am,  Sunday  never  comes  without  bringing  a 
sense  of  relief  that  I  am  a  free  agent,  and 


Retrospective  339 

have  n't  the  Sunday  of  my  boyhood  to  live 
through.  I  almost  hated  Saturday  afternoon, 
although  it  was  nominally  a  half-holiday,  be- 
cause it  was  so  near  Sunday.  Monday  was  my 
favourite  day  in  all  the  week." 

"Don't  you  want  to  smoke?"  Evelyn 
asked,  putting  a  cushion  behind  his  back,  as 
he  sat  in  the  corner  of  the  sofa.  "  It  does  n't 
matter  if  I  wait  on  you  this  afternoon,"  she 
added,  half  apologetically ;  it  was  such  a  new 
role  for  her. 

'  You  don't  really  mind  ?  I  went  off  after 
dinner  without  my  cigar."  There  was  such 
a  pleased  alacrity  in  his  voice  that  she  had  to 
laugh. 

No,  of  course  not.  You  have  a  few  in- 
terests in  life  left,  have  n't  you  ?  "  she  asked 
teasingly. 

One  or  two,"  he  answered,  with  a  laugh 
in  his  eyes. 

"Operations  and  cigars  —  what  a,  thrilling 
life  it  must  be!  "  A  little  bitterness  crept  into 
her  voice,  in  spite  of  her  efforts  to  keep  it  out. 

"  Come,  Evelyn,"  he  protested.  "  I  can't 
bear  to  have  you  take  it  this  way.  Bring  your 
chair  around  here  —  I  mean,  allow  me  the 
pleasure  of  bringing  it  for  you,"  he  broke  off, 
as  he  jumped  to  his  feet  and  moved  the  chair 
in  which  she  was  going  to  sit  nearer  to  the  sofa. 


340       The  Things  that  Count 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  little  story  presently, 
when  I  can  work  myself  up  to  doing  it,"  he 
went  on,  when  he  had  reseated  himself. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  it  if  it  's  an  effort  for 
you,"  she  replied  coldly. 

'  That  is  n't  the  point.  I  want  that  you 
should  know  it.  You  don't  mind  my  telling 
it  to  you,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  of  course  not;  only  I  don't  want  you 
to  feel  that  there  is  any  reason  why  you 
should.  It  is  all  final  enough  as  it  stands." 

"  Oh,  that  is  n't  it.  I  just  want  you  to 
understand  me  a  little  better." 

"  You  care  what  I  think  about  you  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  he  answered  gravely ;  "  very  much, 
indeed.  I  suppose  I  might  as  well  begin  now 
as  any  time,"  he  went  on  a  few  minutes  later, 
breaking  through  the  silence  that  followed  his 
last  remark.  ;<  I  shall  not  find  it  any  easier  if 
I  wait  for  ever.  I  shall  skip  everything  that  is 
not  essential,  so  if  you  don't  understand  any- 
thing, don't  hesitate  to  ask  me  to  explain. 
There  is  no  part  of  the  story  that  I  am  not 
perfectly  willing  that  you  should  know  about." 
He  paused  again  for  some  minutes  before  he 
continued :  "  It  goes  back  to  the  time  when  I 
was  a  boy.  There  was  a  girl,  Helen  Marston 
was  her  name,  and  she  lived  in  Revere.  Her 
family  was  the  most  important  one  in  that  part 


Retrospective  341 

of  the  world.  There  had  been  a  great  many 
distinguished  men  in  it  in  former  times,  and 
they  had  been  very  wealthy,  until  John  Mar- 
ston,  Helen's  father,  succeeded  in  disposing  of 
most  of  the  family  property.  However,  they 
still  kept  up  a  great  deal  of  style,  for  our  part 
of  the  world,  when  I  first  knew  them.  Helen 
was  a  girl  with  a  tremendous  power  over  men. 
I  have  often  wondered  what  it  was,  but  I  can 
never  make  up  my  mind  whether  it  was  physi- 
cal or  mental.  I  have  known  girls  prettier  than 
she,  and  girls  cleverer;  but  they  have  none  of 
them  had  her  charm.  I  don't  know  any  name 
for  it  except  magnetism,  and  that  is  siThply 
begging  the  question.  I  don't  know  when  I 
fell  in  love  with  her,  for  I  cannot  remember 
the  time  when  she  was  not  of  more  importance 
than  the  rest  of  the  world  to  me.  We  did  not 
go  to  the  same  church  (her  people  were  Epis- 
copalians), but  she  was  in  my  class  when  I  first 
went  to  the  Academy.  It  was  not  long  after- 
wards that  she  was  sent  off  to  school,  and  after 
that  I  caught  glimpses  of  her  only  in  vacations. 
All  the  boys  worshipped  at  her  shrine,  and  I 
was  only  one  of  a  number  to  her.  Harry  Gil- 
man  was  her  especial  friend,  a  handsome  fellow, 
with  almost  as  much  personal  charm  in  his  way 
as  she  had  in  hers.  Well,  the  first  year  I  was 
in  New  York,  I  heard  of  her  engagement  to 


342       The  Things  that  Count 

him,  and  that  the  family  had  stipulated  that  it 
was  to  be  a  long  one,  they  were  both  so  young ; 
and  the  following  year  I  heard  of  her  father's 
death,  and  the  fact  that  he  had  left  his  affairs 
in  a  very  bad  condition.  Helen  and  her  mother 
and  younger  brother  (that  was  all  the  family) 
left  Revere,  and  I  lost  sight  of  them  entirely. 
Six  or  seven  years  later,  when  things  were  be- 
ginning to  come  my  way,  Dr.  Haldeman  (you 
probably  don't  know  about  him,  but  he  was  a 
great  man  in  his  day)  asked  me  to  go  with  him 
to  see  a  patient  of  his,  a  music  teacher  of  his 
daughter's,  who  had  a  growth  that  he  believed 
to  b*  cancerous  in  her  breast.  I  went  with 
him  that  afternoon,  and  the  woman  was  Helen. 
She  was  living  in  poor  little  rooms,  in  a  forlorn 
quarter  of  the  city,  with  her  mother  and  Paul, 
who  was  a  clerk-of-all-work  in  a  lawyer's  office. 
What  Helen  earned  by  giving  music  lessons 
and  his  little  salary  were  all  the  family  had  to 
live  on.  It  was  nearly  ten  years  since  I  had 
seen  anything  of  her,  and  I  had  changed  very 
much  (I  had  grown  a  beard) ;  so  it  was  not  sur- 
prising that  she  did  not  recognise  me,  especially 
as  she  had  never  known  me  at  all  well  in  the 
old  days.  I  did  not  tell  them  who  I  was, 
partly  because  I  thought  Mrs.  Marston  might 
be  mortified  at  my  seeing  the  change  in  their 
circumstances,  but  chiefly  for  fear  Helen  might 


Retrospective  343 

not  like  to  be  treated  by  a  former  friend.  I 
decided  to  wait  until  she  got  thoroughly  used 
to  me  as  a  doctor  before  I  told  her.  It  would 
have  been  a  terribly  sad  case  in  any  circum- 
stances. When  I  had  examined  her,  I  felt, 
with  Dr.  Haldeman,  that  there  was  no  chance 
for  her.  This  was  just  the  beginning  of  the 
end." 

'  What  had  become  of  her  engagement  ?  " 
Evelyn  asked,  as  he  paused. 

;<  It  had  been  broken.  Helen,  so  I  learned 
later,  had  broken  it  some  time  before,  because 
there  was  no  prospect  of  their  ever  being  able 
to  marry,  and  Oilman  had  let  her  do  it.  I 
begged  Haldeman  to  turn  the  case  over  to  me, 
giving  him  a  hint  that  my  interest  was  not 
purely  professional,  and  he  was  glad  to  do  it. 
I  went  to  the  house  nearly  every  day,  though 
it  was  n't  strictly  necessary,  and  soon  became 
friends  with  them  all.  Helen  confided  her 
perplexities  and  anxieties  to  me.  In  the  years 
that  I  had  not  seen  her,  believing  her  to  be 
Oilman's  fiancte,  or  wife,  my  keenness  of  feel- 
ing had  naturally  faded  away;  but  at  the  first 
sight  of  her  the  old  fascination  began  to  work, 
only  with  a  hundred  times  more  power  than 
ever  before." 

"  But  did  n't  you  mind  it — what  she  had  ? " 
Evelyn  asked. 


344       The  Things  that  Count 

"  The  cancer  ?  No,  not  at  all.  I  felt  no 
repulsion :  only  a  sense  of  infinite  pity  and 
love.  If  I  could  have  taken  it  myself,  I  would 
have  done  so  gladly,  even  although  I  knew  she 
would  have  had  the  shrinking  which  I  did  n't 
feel.  The  thing  was  a  horror  to  her.  If  she 
had  been  a  leper,  she  could  not  have  felt  it 
more  strongly.  She  shrank  from  all  mention 
of  it  from  anyone  but  me,  and  told  me  often 
how  glad  she  was  that  she  had  no  friends  to 
come  to  see  her.  The  worst  feature  of  it  was 
that  it  was  so  slow.  She  did  not  suffer  much 
when  I  first  took  the  case,  but  the  pain  grew 
gradually." 

"  Could  n't  you  operate  ?  "  asked  Evelyn. 

"  No;  it  would  have  meant  instant  death. 
She  had  wonderful  self-control;  it  was  only  to 
me  that  she  ever  gave  way ;  to  Paul  and  her 
mother  she  was  always  cheerful.  Paul  adored 
her,  and  worked  day  and  night,  getting  work 
to  do  out  of  hours,  that  he  might  earn  a  little 
more  money,  now  that  Helen's  earnings  had 
stopped.  He  was,  and  is,  a  nice  fellow.  He 
is  a  wealthy  man  now,  with  a  fine  woman  for 
his  wife,  and  some  children  who  are  going  to 
make  him  proud  of  them.  He  lives  in  New 
York,  and  I  always  dine  with  them  on  Helen's 
birthday,  the  loth  of  November.  We  never 
say  anything  about  its  being  an  anniversary ; 


Retrospective  345 

but  it  would  have  to  be  something  very  serious 
that  could  keep  me  away." 

"  And  Mrs.  Marston,  is  she  alive  ? "  Evelyn 
asked. 

"  No;  she  died  that  same  year,  shortly  after 
—but  I  will  go  back  to  where  I  left  off.  Helen 
recognised  me  very  soon.  I  often  caught  her 
looking  at  me  intently,  but  she  said  nothing 
until  I  had  been  going  to  the  house  about  two 
months.  Then,  one  day  after  I  had  been  hurt- 
ing her  considerably,  and  she  had  been  lying 
with  her  eyes  closed  so  quietly  that  I  thought 
she  must  be  in  great  pain,  she  suddenly  opened 
them  (they  were  a  little  darker  than  yours,  and 
had  the  same  gleam  of  fun  in  them  sometimes 
that  yours  have),  and  said  mischievously: 
'  Have  you  ever  got  quite  clear  in  your  mind  as 
to  the  difference  between  Ben  Jonson  and  Dr. 
Johnson  '  ?  This  was  an  allusion  to  a  break  I 
had  once  made  in  our  literature  class,  which 
had  been  a  source  of  great  amusement  to  the 
class,  as  I  was  always  a  good  scholar.  'And 
do  you  still  think  Dolly  Varden  to  be  one  of 
the  ladies  of  Charles  II.'s  Court  ? '  I  answered, 
retorting  with  a  break  of  her  own.  We  both 
laughed  at  that,  and  we  had  a  long  talk  about 
old  days,  during  which  Harry  Oilman's  name 
was  not  once  mentioned  by  either  of  us.  We 
grew  better  friends  than  ever  after  that." 


346       The  Things  that  Count 

"  Did  she  know  that  you  loved  her?  "  Evelyn 
inquired,  in  a  low  voice. 

I  never  told  her  so;  but  she  knew,  of 
course.  I  think  she  must  always  have  known 
about  my  feeling  for  her.  I  tried  to  hide  it 
the  best  I  could,  because  I  thought  it  would 
probably  be  displeasing  to  her  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. I  was  her  doctor,  though  I  had 
grown  to  be  her  friend.  Well,  the  thing  went 
on  slowly  for  some  months,  every  one  of  which 
made  her  dearer  to  me.  Of  course,  it  was  not 
necessary  that  I  should  go  to  see  her  every 
day,  but  I  could  no  more  have  kept  away.  I 
cannot  tell  you  how  it  hurt  me  to  see  the  way 
they  lived,  when  I  remembered  their  former 
life.  I  had  been  in  their  house  once  or  twice 
on  errands  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  it  had  always 
been  the  type  of  all  that  was  magnificent  to 
me." 

'.'  Was  it,  really  ?  "  Evelyn  asked. 

I  suppose  it  was  n't  as  fine  as  it  appeared 
to  me.  I  know  that  it  was  n't,  from  the  way 
the  exterior  looks  to  me  now;  but  it  was  a 
very  fine  old  house,  with  beautiful  hardwood 
floors,  and  ceilings  with  the  beams  showing, 
and  carved  oak  wainscoting.  The  furniture 
was  very  handsome.  They  were  the  only  peo- 
ple in  our  part  of  the  world  to  have  a  man  ser- 
vant in  the  house.  I  longed  to  do  something 


Retrospective  347 

to  help  them,  but  they  had  a  great  deal  of 
old-fashioned  pride,  and  I  did  n't  dare  offer 
anything  more  substantial  than  flowers,  game, 
and  an  occasional  bottle  of  wine.  Finally,  I 
could  n't  stand  seeing  their  deprivations  (they 
thought  that  they  hid  them)  any  longer,  and 
I  waylaid  Paul  outside  of  the  house  one  day, 
and  persuaded  him  to  let  me  lend  him  some 
money,  promising  him  that  he  should  repay 
me  with  interest  any  time  he  chose.  It  was 
hard  work,  though  he  was  a  little  more  modern- 
ised in  that  respect  than  the  others;  but  at  last 
he  consented,  for  Helen's  sake.  It  is  one  of 
the  things  that  I  like  best  about  him,"  he 
added,  "  that  he  has  never  spoken  of  repay- 
ment. And  as  the  time  went  on,  and  he  real- 
ised what  it  all  meant  to  me,  all  his  scruples  left 
him,  and  he  took  from  me  simply  and  grate- 
fully. Of  course  Mrs.Marston  and  Helen  never 
suspected  it.  He  told  them  that  he  had  had 
a  raise  of  salary.  The  strain  under  which  they 
were  living  was  killing  them  all,"  he  went  on 
after  a  little  pause.  He  had  told  his  story 
calmly  at  first,  more  as  if  it  belonged  to  another 
person  than  himself;  but  he  grew  less  self- 
contained  as  he  approached  the  end.  "  Helen 
had  to  be  under  the  influence  of  opiates  every 
night  to  get  any  sleep  at  all;  and  yet  she  had 
so  much  vitality  that  the  end  still  seemed  far 


348       The  Things  that  Count 

off.  One  Sunday  afternoon  I  reached  the 
house  at  about  three  o'clock,  and  found  her 
all  alone.  She  had  sent  her  mother  out  to  the 
Park  with  Paul,  to  get  some  fresh  air.  It  was 
a  lovely  spring  day,  very  much  like  to-day. 
I  had  taken  her  a  bunch  of  sweet-briar  roses, 
which  I  had  chanced  upon. 

"  '  You    carried    a   bunch   of   them    to   the 
Academy  party,'  I  said  as  I  gave  them  to  her. 

"  '  And  I  had  a  green-and-white  silk  dress 
on,'  she  answered. 

'  And  a  black  velvet  net-arrangement  in 
your  hair;  and  slippers  with  elastics  that  crossed 
over  the  instep,'  I  went  on.  Then  she  asked  if 
I  really  remembered  that ;  and  said  that  it  was 
strange.  And  I  reminded  her  how,  when  one  of 
the  boys  had  to  kneel  to  the  wittiest,  bow  to 
the  prettiest,  and  kiss  the  one  he  loved  the  best 
as  a  forfeit,  he  had  done  them  all  three  to  her. 
The  boy  was  Harry  Gilman,  though  I  did  not 
mention  his  name;  but  I  could  see  that  she 
remembered,  and  that  the  remembrance,  for 
some  reason,  pleased  her.  I  told  her  all  about 
the  party:  things  that  she  had  forgotten,  but 
remembered  when  I  recalled  them  to  her;  for 
I  had  not  forgotten  a  detail  of  that  wonderful 
occasion  any  more  than  I  have  forgotten  any- 
thing that  happened  that  afternoon  I  am  telling 
you  about.  Finally,  she  told  me  that  she  had 


Retrospective  349 

sent  her  mother  out  on  purpose,  because  she 
wanted  a  long  talk  with  me,  and  asked  me  if 
she  was  right  in  thinking  that  I  would  do  a 
great  deal  for  her.  I  told  her  simply  that  she 
was.  Then  she  seemed  to  leave  the  subject, 
and  went  on  to  talk  to  me  about  what  her 
present  life  was,  and  of  the  worse  things  that 
were  in  store  for  her;  of  how  her  illness  was 
breaking  down  her  mother  and  Paul,  neither 
of  whom  was  strong;  of  how  her  sufferings, 
which  she  could  no  longer  hide,  were  affecting 
them ;  and  she  ended  up  by  asking  me  to  tell 
her  how  large  a  dose  of  her  sleeping  medicine 
she  must  take  to  put  an  end  to  her  sufferings 
for  ever. ' ' 

"  Oh,  go  on!  "  Evelyn  said,  in  a  breathless 
whisper  as  he  paused.  He  was  evidently  find- 
ing it  hard  to  tell  this  part  of  his  story. 

"  She  would  not  run  any  chances  of  an  over- 
dose. Her  mother  and  Paul  must  never  sus- 
pect that  it  was  not  an  accident.  She  would 
not  put  that  additional  trouble  upon  them  ;  for 
her  mother  had  religious  scruples  against  taking 
one's  own  life,  and  the  thing  would  be  a  ter- 
rible sorrow  to  her  if  she  knew.  She,  Helen, 
counted  on  me  to  help  her  make  it  seem 
entirely  accidental.  I  refused  absolutely.  I 
was  even  proof  against  her  taking  my  hand  in 
both  hers,  and  calling  me  '  dear  Tom,'  and 


35°       The  Things  that  Count 

saying  that  I  was  the  best  friend  she  ever  had. 
And  then,  when  everything  else  had  failed, 
she  talked  to  me  about  Harry.  He  was  to  be 
married  to  another  girl  —  a  girl  with  money  — 
very  shortly,  and  she  could  not  live  till  then. 
She  would  not  let  me  say  a  word  against  him, 
and  I  saw  that  it  hurt  her  so  much  to  have  me 
criticise  him,  even  to  myself,  that  I  made  my- 
self speak  of  what  a  favourite  he  had  been 
among  us  as  a  boy,  and  say  everything  pleasant 
that  I  could  think  of  about  him.  The  happiest 
look  I  had  seen  on  her  face  since  the  day  Dr. 
Haldeman  took  me  to  the  house  came  on  it 
then ;  and  she  called  me  '  dear,  dear  Tom  '  this 
time,  and  laid  her  hand  on  my  arm  for  a 
minute.  And  he  was,  he  ts,  a  nice  fellow ;  only 
he  is  n't  made  of  the  stuff  that  heroes  are  made 
of.  I  met  him  afterwards,  in  a  queer  little  inn 
in  Germany,  and  he  told  me  that  he  had  always 
loved  her,  and  always  should  (his  wife  was  with 
him  at  the  time)  ;  that  he  had  let  Helen  release 
him  because  a  marriage  between  two  poor 
people,  like  themselves,  with  others  dependent 
on  them,  seemed  absolutely  hopeless;  and  then 
he  had  drifted  into  this  marriage.  He  had  got 
in  so  far  before  he  knew  it  that  he  could  n't 
get  out.  He  did  not  tell  me  so,  but  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  his  wife  was  perfectly  in-, 
fatuated  with  him,  as  a  great  many  other 


Retrospective  35 x 

women  have  been.  I  will  give  him  the  credit 
of  being  very  kind  and  considerate  of  her. 
His  great  fault  was  that  he  always  let  himself 
be  dominated  by  circumstances,  instead  of 
mastering  them.  It  was  so  when  we  used  to 
play  together  as  boys.  He  was  easily  deterred 
by  obstacles."  The  Doctor  turned  off  on  this 
subject,  as  if  it  were  a  relief  to  get  on  less  sensi- 
tive ground;  but  presently  he  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  brought  himself  back  to  his  scene 
with  Helen.  '  I  refused  utterly  to  give  her 
any  help  that  afternoon ;  but  her  sufferings  for 
the  next  few  weeks  were  terrible  for  me  to  see, 
for  she  did  n't  try  to  hide  them  from  me  any 
longer.  A  month  later  I  gave  her  a  new  bottle 
of  the  medicine,  and  a  slip  of  paper  on  which 
I  had  written  the  exact  amount  for  a  fatal 
dose.  The  next  morning  they  found  her  dead, 
and  sent  forme."  Evelyn  drew  a  long  breath. 

I  suppose  many  people  would  think  I  did 
very  wrong,"  he  went  on,  getting  the  better 
of  the  feeling  that  was  overcoming  him.  "  I 
have  never  been  sorry.  I  could  not  have  done 
any  differently.  Her  family  never  suspected 
it.  She  laid  her  plans  carefully.  Nobody  has 
ever  dreamed  that  it  was  not  an  accident." 

"  Oh,  that  night!  what  it  must  have  been  to 
you!"  exclaimed  Evelyn,  the  tears  running 
down  her  cheeks. 


352        The  Things  that  Count 

-   "  I  can't  speak  of  that,"  he  said  brokenly. 

And  now  you  see  what  has  made  me  what  I 
am,"  he  began  presently.  l<  I  have  never  in- 
tended not  to  marry ;  but  that  was  too  awful  an 
experience.  I  have  never  cared  for  a  woman 
since.  I  seem  to  have  lost  my  ambition,  too. 
I  have  never  cared  about  getting  on  since 
then.  All  I  have  wanted  to  do  was  to  ease 
women's  sufferings  a  little  as  a  memorial  to 
her.  I  thought  at  first  that  I  would  devote 
myself  to  her  special  form  of  suffering;  but  I 
found  that  I  could  do  so  much  more,  give  so 
much  more  relief,  in  other  lines.  After  her 
death  (I  was  doing  very  well  then),  I  went 
abroad  to  study  for  two  years.  Now,  you 
know  all  my  history  as  it  is  known  to  no  one 
else  on  earth.  Don't  cry  so,  my  dear  child. 
It  was  all  over  twenty  years  ago.  It  is  not  an 
active  grief  to  me  now,  and  has  not  been  for  a 
long  time.  It  has  not  stood  between  me  and 
anything.  It  was  only  that  I  seemed  to  have 
lost  the  power  to  care.  It  was  taken  out  of 
me  that  terrible  night.  Evelyn,  my  dear  girl, 
it  hurts  me  to  have  you  take  it  so  much  to 
heart.  It  makes  me  want  to  put  my  arms 
around  you,  and  comfort  you ;  and  I  must  not 
do  that.  I  must  have  been  terribly  to  blame !  " 
he  broke  off  suddenly. 

"  Oh,  no!  you  were  not,"  Evelyn  protested, 


Retrospective  353 

removing  her  handkerchief  from  her  eyes  and 
her  head  from  the  back  of  her  chair.  '  It  is 
only  that  we  have  to  love  the  highest  when  we 
see  it,  as  somebody  has  said.  You  must  not 
feel  badly  because  of  this.  It  is  going  to  be 
my  salvation.  I  shall  be  a  better  woman  all 
my  life  through  because  of  it.  I  see  every- 
thing from  such  a  different  point  of  view  since 
I  have  known  you." 

"  If  only  it  does  n't  last  too  long,"  said  the 
Doctor.  ' '  You  must  marry,  and  have  children 
of  your  own.  No  woman's  life  is  complete 
without  it,  and  yours  would  be  less  so  than 
most.  You  must  not  let  this  feeling  hang  on 
and  stand  in  the  way  of  that.  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  something — will  you  ?  " 

'  Tell  me  what  it  is  first,"  she  demanded 
cautiously. 

I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  will 
not  hold  on  to  this  thing;  that  you  will  let  it 
go  the  second  it  shows  a  disposition  to ;  hurry 
it  off  a  little,  if  you  can.  That  is  n't  much  to 
ask,"  he  went  on  persuasively.  ;<  It  is  n't  as 
if  I  asked  you  to  kill  it  outright,  the  way  you 
did  your  feeling  for  Hunt,  which  would  be 
better  yet.  Won't  you  promise  me  ?  " 

How  can  I  refuse  you  anything,  when  you 
ask   me  like  that!"  she  returned,  almost  in- 
dignantly.    "  I  promise." 
23 


354       The  Things  that  Count 

'  Well:  see  that  you  keep  it.  There  is 
another  thing  that  I  want  to  speak  to  you 
about,"  he  added,  with  a  little  hesitation.  "  I 
don't  want  to  seem  not  to  take  the  thing 
seriously,  but  —  Palmer  is  a  mighty  fine  fel- 
low," he  broke  off,  "  and  he  is  very  much  in 
love  with  you." 

'  He  says  so;  but  I  have  never  believed  in  it 
very  strongly,"  she  replied. 

He  has  an  immense  power  of  self-restraint. 
That  is  one  thing  that  I  like  about  him ;  and 
yet  I  could  see  his  feeling  in  the  few  words  he 
spoke  to  me  about  you.  I  think  you  would 
make  a  great  mistake,  Evelyn,  dear,  if,  after  a 
while  —  not  just  now,  of  course  —  you  don't 
marry  him.  I  am  sure  you  would  come  to  love 
him  very  much  in  time,  and  be  very  happy 
with  him." 

'  Yes,  I  know  all  that,  and  more,"  she  an- 
swered slowly.  ;<  I  don't  want  to  die  a  child- 
less old  maid.  I  want  all  the  experiences 
that  a  woman  can  have,  and  perhaps  it  will  be 
Richard  some  day  if  he  keeps  on  caring.  Your 
recommendation  means  a  great  deal  to  me,  for 
I  have  seen  how  you  can  read  people,  even  on 
slight  acquaintance,"  she  added,  smiling  at  him 
through  the  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  Is  n't  this 
funny  ?"  she  broke  off,  with  a  half-hysterical 
laugh. 


Retrospective  355 

"  It  is  certainly  modern,  all  right,"  returned 
the  Doctor. 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  orthodox  for  me  to 
be  constant  for  the  rest  of  my  life;  but  I  don't 
mean  to  be.  Perhaps,  some  day,  you  will  be 
our  old  family  friend.  I  wonder  if  my  hus- 
band, whoever  he  is,  will  let  me  name  one  of 
my  boys  after  you." 

"  I  shall  not  live  to  see  that  day,"  he  de- 
clared slowly.  "  I  wanted  to  tell  you  this.  It 
is  one  of  the  reasons  —  the  principal  reason,  in 
fact  —  why  I  have  never  let  myself  look  on 
anything  more  as  possible  between  you  and 
me.  I  shall  not  live  to  be  an  old  man." 

Oh,  you  just  think  that  because  you  live 
in  such  a  death's-head  atmosphere,"  she  ex- 
claimed incredulously.  "  You  have  grown 
morbid.  A  man  who  looks  the  picture  of 
health  that  you  do!  It  is  ridiculous." 

Perhaps,"  said  the  Doctor  quietly,  drop- 
ping the  subject,  and  rising  to  his  feet. 
*  You  are  not  going  ? "  she  exclaimed. 

"  I  must.  It  is  past  six.  I  told  you  this 
about  myself  because  you  have  come  so  near 
to  me  that  I  liked  to  have  you  know  it,"  he 
said,  taking  her  hand,  and  looking  down  at  her 
with  kind,  serious  eyes.  '  Will  you  do  some- 
thing for  me  ?  " 

"  Anything,"  she  answered  spontaneously, 


356       The  Things  that  Count 

looking  him  full  in  the  face.  He  put  his  hand 
in  his  pocket,  and  brought  out  a  roll  of  bills, 
which  he  dropped  in  her  lap. 

'  Take  this  in  the  spirit  in  which  I  offer  it 
to  you.  It  is  unconventional  for  you  to  take 
it,  but  it  is  right." 

I  will  keep  it  until  there  is  no  danger  of 
my  wanting  it ;  and  then  I  will  return  it  to  you, 
and  I  will  buy  myself  a  good  substantial  meal 
every  day  out  of  it  until  I  am  paid  for  some 
work  that  I  am  going  to  do  for  Miss  Stevens. 
Will  that  make  you  easier  about  me  ?  " 

'  Very  much.  Still,  I  would  take  anything 
in  heaven  or  earth  as  a  free  gift  from  you, 
Evelyn." 

Except  myself,"  she  said  sadly,  but  with- 
out a  trace  of  bitterness  in  her  voice. 

"  My  child,  I  can't  do  that.  Some  day  you 
will  understand  why,  better  than  you  do  now. 
Do  you  suppose  it  is  no  temptation  to  me  ? 
My  house  seems  cold  and  empty  since  you  left 
it.  Come,  give  me  your  hand.  I  must  go. 
Don't  think  I  am  unappreciative  of  the  honour 
you  have  done  me.  Good-by. " 

"  And  you  can't  say,  '  God  bless  you  '  to 
me.  That  is  the  worst  of  letting  one's  faith 
go,"  she  said  sadly. 

!<  I  wish  I  could,  but  I  can  only  tell  you  to 
take  care  of  yourself.  Are  n't  you  going  to 


Retrospective 


357 


say  good-by  to  me  ?  Shall  I  have  to  go  with- 
out it  ?  Don't  look  at  me  in  that  way!  I  will 
not  kiss  you."  He  wrenched  his  hand  away 
almost  roughly,  and,  taking  his  hat,  left  the 
room,  leaving  her  standing  there. 

It  was  the  last  time  that  she  ever  saw  him 
alive. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

% 

THE   DELUGE,    AND   WHAT   CAME  AFTER   IT 

ONE  afternoon,  ten  days  later,  Evelyn  sat 
in  her  room,  sewing  the  ribbon  on  the 
waist  of  a  batiste  gown  for  one  of  Miss  Stevens's 
customers.  The  material  was  gaudy  and  in- 
artistic, and  she  was  trying  to  tone  it  down  a 
little  with  ribbon  and  lace.  She  had  been 
sewing  for  Miss  Stevens  only  a  little  over  a 
week,  but  already  she  was  an  authority  with 
her,  and  was  consulted  about  every  tuck.  Her 
taste  and  general  knowledge  more  than  made 
up  for  her  lack  of  professional  experience, 
which  she  felt  she  could  gain  in  a  very  short 
time.  As  she  sewed,  she  was  planning  a 
future  for  herself,  in  which  she  would  work 
for  Miss  Stevens  until  her  money  affairs  were 
straightened  out ;  then  she  would  go  to  Paris, 
and  get  a  position  with  some  big  dressmaker 
there,  and,  after  a  year  or  so  of  that,  she 
would  come  home  and  open  a  dressmaking 

358 


The  Deluge  359 

establishment  for  herself.  All  her  former 
friends  would  patronise  her:  at  first  out  of  curi- 
osity, and  after  that  her  own  prospective  skill 
would  carry  her  to  success.  Her  establishment 
should  be  something  entirely  new  in  the  line; 
her  parlours  should  be  open  to  her  girls  in  the 
evening  as  club  rooms.  Perhaps  she  would 
even  board  such  of  them  as  had  no  homes. 
She  would  gradually  collect  a  library  for  them, 
and  do  her  best  to  improve  them  in  every  way. 
Perhaps  some  day  Doctor  Gardner  would  hear 
of  the  great  work  she  was  doing,  and  come  to 
see  her  about  a  sewing  girl  in  whom  he  was 
interested ;  and  how  surprised  he  would  be  to 
find  that  the  Miss  Smith  of  whom  every  one 
was  talking  was  his  Evelyn.  After  that,  he 
would  come  to  see  her  quite  often,  and  they 
would  have  a  friendship  like  one  of  those 
celebrated  French  ones  ever  afterward.  She 
was  just  planning  the  conversation  that  took 
place  on  the  occasion  on  which  he  should  dis- 
cover her,  when  a  gentle  knock  came  at  her 
door.  Mrs.  Gordon  came  in,  and  as  soon  as 
Evelyn  saw  her  face  she  knew  that  something 
was  the  matter. 

'  What  is  it   ?  "  she  exclaimed    anxiously. 
Mrs.  Gordon  dropped  on  the  sofa. 

"  My  dear  child,  I  have  some  sad  news  for 
you,"  she  said,  beginning  to  weep. 


360       The  Things  that  Count 

'  You  do  not  need  to  tell  me.  I  know," 
Evelyn  answered.  "  He  is  dead." 

'  Yes,"  Mrs.  Gordon  said  simply.  They 
sat  there  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
then,  when  she  was  calmer,  the  older  woman 
began  to  tell  how  it  had  happened.  Evelyn 
did  not  shed  a  tear  throughout  the  whole 
recital. 

He  had  been  performing  an  operation  on  a 
woman  at  the  hospital  that  morning,  a  very 
serious,  complicated  operation.  It  was  over, 
and  they  hoped  successfully,  when  one  of  the 
younger  physicians,  who  happened  to  be  look- 
ing at  Dr.  Gardner,  saw  him  turn  perfectly 
white.  He  sank  down  on  a  chair,  and  asked 
for  a  glass  of  water;  but  before  it  could  be 
brought  he  was  dead.  He  pointed  to  his  in- 
side pocket,  and  said,  "  Look  there  first,"  and 
that  was  the  end.  In  his  pocket  they  had 
found  a  card,  with  his  name  and  address  on  it, 
and  these  words:  "  In  case  of  my  sudden 
death,  do  not  take  my  body  home  until  you 
have  sent  Mr.  Saunders,  the  Presbyterian  min- 
ister, to  break  the  news  to  Mrs.  Gordon,  my 
housekeeper.  Notify  Dr.  McKenzie,  who  will 
make  all  necessary  arrangements,  as  he  knows 
my  wishes.  Telegraph  immediately  to  William 
F.  Gardner,  Revere,  New  Hampshire,  my 
nephew  and  only  near  relative.  There  is  a 


The  Deluge  361 

letter    for    him    in    the    extreme    right-hand 
pigeonhole  of  my  desk  in  the  library." 

All  his  instructions  had  been  carried  out, 
and  Mrs.  Gordon  had  just  received  a  telegram 
from  Mr.  William  Gardner  saying  that  he 
would  arrive  early  the  next  morning.  Dr. 
McKenzie  had  told  her  that  the  Doctor  had 
had  a  serious  heart  trouble  for  years.  Both 
men  had  known  for  some  time  that  he  could 
not  live  long.  That  was  the  reason  why  he 
was  always  so  particular  never  to  leave  any- 
thing unfinished  over  night,  and  never  put  off 
for  a  minute  anything  important  that  he  had 
to  do.  She  said,  in  answer  to  a  question  of 
Evelyn's,  that  there  would  be  no  funeral. 
The  Doctor  had  told  her,  some  time  before, 
that  he  did  not  wish  any.  It  was  a  great 
additional  sorrow  to  her  that  no  sacred  words 
should  be  read  over  his  body,  but  she  felt  sure 
that  God  would  understand  him,  and  would 
judge  him  by  his  life,  and  not  by  his  lack  of 
faith.  He  had  been  misguided;  but,  for  all 
that,  the  best  man  she  had  ever  known.  She 
had  tried  to  argue  the  question  on  the  occa- 
sion when  he  had  spoken  of  it  to  her,  merely, 
it  seemed,  as  a  matter  of  improbable  occur- 
rence; but  he  had  told  her  that  it  would  be  as 
wicked  for  him  to  let  himself  be  buried  by  the 
rites  of  a  religion  in  which  he  not  only  did  not 


362       The  Things  that  Count 

believe,  but  profoundly  disbelieved,  as  it  would 
for  her  to  let  a  Mohammedan  or  a  Chinese 
service  be  read  over  her  head  to  please  her 
friends.  It  would  be  an  act  of  hypocrisy  on 
his  part.  He  wished  to  be  cremated  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment,  and  with  no  cere- 
mony whatever.  It  was  not,  so  he  had  told 
her,  that  he  had  the  slightest  concern  as  to  what 
became  of  his  body  after  he  left  it;  but  he 
thought  it  was  his  duty  to  set  an  example  of 
honesty  to  those  who  wished  to  discard  forms 
in  which  they  did  not  believe,  but  did  not 
have  the  courage  of  their  convictions. 

Evelyn  listened  to  all  this  in  an  impersonal 
way,  as  of  something  that  concerned  her  only 
remotely.  She  even  found  herself  noticing 
the  Scotch  idioms  in  Mrs.  Gordon's  speech, 
much  more  prominent  than  ever  before;  for 
she  had  lived  so  long  in  this  country  that  she 
had  dropped  many  of  her  native  expressions. 
It  was  interesting  to  see  how  they  came  back 
to  her  tongue  in  a  moment  of  strong  excite- 
ment. The  good  woman  looked  at  her 
anxiously.  She  evidently  was  worried  by 
this  unnatural  calmness. 

'  You  must  come  over  this  evening,  if 
you  want  to  see  him,"  she  said,  as  she  rose 
to  go.  "  Dr.  McKenzie  has  been  seeing 
to  everything,  and  they  are  to  take  him  away 


The  Deluge  363 

in  the  morning  after  Mr.  William  Gardner 
arrives." 

"  I  will,"  Evelyn  replied  tranquilly.  She 
took  up  her  sewing  again  and  finished  it ;  about 
five  minutes'  work.  Then  she  went  down- 
stairs with  it,  as  it  was  to  be  sent  home  that 
night.  Mrs.  Gordon  had  told  Mrs.  Pinkerton 
the  news  when  she  let  her  in,  and  she  had  told 
Miss  Stevens.  Evelyn  felt  that  she  and  her 
girls  looked  at  her  with  a  certain  curiosity,  and 
she  rose  to  the  occasion,  with  a  sense  of  savage 
irritation,  which  she  carefully  concealed,  saying 
calmly : 

"  Here  is  the  waist,  Miss  Stevens.  I  hope 
you  will  like  it,"  and  while  Miss  Stevens  was 
admiring  it,  she  added :  "  Since  you  are  not  so 
busy,  I  won't  take  any  work  for  a  couple  of 
days.  I  am  much  upset  over  Dr.  Gardner's 
death,  and  I  want  to  help  Mrs.  Gordon.  He 
had  been  so  good  to  my  mother  and  me  that 
he  had  become  more  friend  than  doctor."  She 
said  this  with  perfect  composure,  and  turned 
and  walked  unfalteringly  from  the  room.  No 
one  should  know  what  this  sorrow  was  to  her. 
It  was  too  sacred  for  the  world  to  see. 

She  went  back  to  her  room,  and  sat  there 
motionless  in  the  long  spiring  twilight,  feeling 
an  absolute  inability  to  realise  what  it  was  that 
had  happened.  She  felt  numb  and  dazed.  It 


364       The  Things  that  Count 

would  be  a  relief  to  feel  something  acutely. 
The  tears  had  come  to  her  so  easily  the  last 
few  weeks,  since  she  had  been  feeling  the  re- 
action from  the  strain  of  her  mother's  illness; 
but  now  they  seemed  suddenly  dried  up.  The 
only  sensation  that  she  was  conscious  of  was 
an  intense  longing  to  see  the  Doctor,  and  she 
could  not  rid  herself  of  the  impression  that  he 
might  come  in  at  any  moment.  He  had 
usually  left  her  mother  for  his  last  call,  and 
had  come  in  at  dusk  —  an  earlier  dusk,  to  be 
sure  —  dismissing  his  carriage  at  the  door,  and 
walking  home. 

When  it  was  really  dark,  she  threw  a  little 
white  shawl  around  her,  and  went  down  the 
street.  She  shivered  when  she  saw  the  crepe 
on  the  door,  and  could  hardly  bring  herself  to 
ring  the  bell.  Maria,  with  a  swollen,  tear- 
stained  face,  opened  it  for  her.  In  answer  to 
Evelyn's  inquiry,  she  told  her  that  Mrs.  Gor- 
don was  in  the  Doctor's  room,  and  that  there 
was  no  one  else  there  now,  though  people  had 
been  coming  and  going  all  the  afternoon. 
Some  of  his  poor  patients  had  heard  of  it 
already,  and  young  doctors  had  been  there  by 
the  dozen  to  see  if  there  was  anything  they 
could  do. 

"  Everybody  do  just  feel  awful!  "  she  added 
with  a  sob. 


The  Deluge  365 

Evelyn  turned  the  door-knob  of  the  room, 
and  went  softly  in.  She  had  never  been  there 
before.  It  was  small,  and  opened  out  of  the 
Doctor's  office,  which  had  been  originally  the 
back  parlour.  The  front  parlour  was  used  as 
a  waiting-room  for  patients.  Mrs.  Gordon  had 
just  finished  putting  clean  covers  on  the  bureau 
and  tables.  When  Evelyn  came  in,  she  started 
to  go  to  the  bed  and  pull  down  the  sheet  from 
the  figure  lying  there,  but  Evelyn  stopped  her. 

3  Would  you  mind  —  would  you  let  me  do 
it  ?  "  she  asked  brokenly,  her  composure  be- 
ginning to  desert  her  for  the  first  time.  Mrs. 
Gordon  understood,  and  turned  to  leave  the 
room. 

"  I  will  see  that  no  one  comes  in,"  she  said 
gently.  '  You  can  let  yourself  out  the  office 
door  when  you  go." 

After  she  had  gone,  Evelyn  stood  a  few 
moments  motionless.  She  had  always  had  a 
strong  repulsion  from  death,  for  she  had  never 
lost  any  one  she  had  loved  before ;  but  now,  to 
her  astonishment,  it  was  all  gone.  She  felt 
now  that  she  understood  his  attitude  towards 
Helen's  disease,  which  had  been  heretofore  so 
incomprehensible  to  her.  She  folded  back  the 
sheet.  He  looked  to  her  eyes  just  as  he  had 
looked  that  night  when  he  had  fallen  asleep 
on  the  library  sofa.  There  was  a  smile  on  his 


366        The  Things  that  Count 

face,  and  he  looked  peaceful  and  happy,  and 
even  younger  than  he  had  appeared  in  life.  A 
great  many  lines  which  time  had  drawn  had 
faded  out.  At  the  same  time,  he  seemed  so 
far  away  from  her  that,  for  the  first  time, 
Evelyn  began  to  realise  the  sorrow  that  had 
come  upon  her.  She  sank  on  her  knees,  and 
hid  her  face  on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  Now  she 
could  cry. 

It  was  over  an  hour  before  she  stole  across 
the  office,  fearful  of  meeting  anyone,  and 
let  herself  out  the  side  door.  As  she  came 
down  the  steps,  she  heard  a  low  whining, 
and,  by  the  light  of  the  street  lamp,  saw 
Mavis,  with  little  Wink  beside  her,  poking 
her  nose  out  through  a  grating  that  opened 
into  the  cellar,  where  the  dogs  had  evidently 
been  shut  up.  Both  of  them  seemed  very 
anxious  and  unhappy;  but  as  they  always 
were  that  when  they  were  shut  up,  she  could 
not  tell  if  they  had  any  presentiment  of  what 
had  taken  place  or  not.  She  stopped  and 
rubbed  their  noses,  and  talked  to  them  a 
little. 

The  next  day  at  noon  she  received,  by  hand, 
an  envelope  addressed  to  herself  in  an  un- 
known handwriting.  She  opened  it,  and  found 
a  note  wrapped  around  a  sealed  envelope.  The 
note  said : 


The  Deluge  367 

"  Miss  EVELYN  SMITH, 

"  DEAR  MADAM, — I  found  in  a  letter  from  my 
late  uncle  a  passage  which  refers  to  you,  and  the 
enclosed  letter  for  you.  Doubtless  he  himself  has 
communicated  to  you  in  this  the  wishes  which  he 
conveys  to  me,  and  which,  needless  to  say,  are 
sacred  to  me.  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  carry 
them  out,  and  to  put  myself  at  your  service  in  any 
way  whatever.  I  shall  do  myself  the  honour  of 
coming  to  see  you  at  five  this  afternoon. 

"  Very  truly  yours, 
"WM.  F.  GARDNER. 

"  P.S.  I  have  mentioned,  and  shall  mention,  the 
bequest  and  the  existence  of  this  letter  to  no  one." 

Evelyn  broke  the  seal  of  her  letter.  It  was 
in  the  Doctor's  well-known  writing,  and  dated 
with  the  date  of  his  last  visit  to  her. 

"  MY  DEAR  GIRL, — When  you  read  this,  you  will 
know  why  it  was  that  I  could  not  tie  your  life  to 
my  short  one,  even  if  I  had  been  able  to  convince 
myself  that  you  could  be  happy  with  me,  and  sat- 
isfied with  the  all  I  could  give  you.  I  had  this 
trouble  as  a  boy,  but  seemed  to  outgrow  it  entirely. 
It  came  upon  me  again  at  the  time  of  Helen's 
death,  and  I  have  never  been  free  from  it  since. 
I  have  known  for  some  time  that  my  days  were 
numbered.  I  have  wanted  to  leave  you  something 
to  make  your  life  easier  for  you;  but  at  first  I 


368       The  Things  that  Count 

did  n't  see  how  to  do  it  without  making  talk  that 
would  be  unpleasant  for  you.  At  last,  it  has  just 
occurred  to  me  to  add  a  postscript  to  a  letter  that 
I  wrote  to  my  nephew  some  time  ago,  asking  him 
to  give  you  ten  thousand  dollars  without  mention- 
ing it  to  anyone.  He  is  my  residuary  legatee. 
That  will  about  double  your  income,  and  make 
you  freer  to  choose  your  life.  I  also  asked  him  to 
take  Mavis  home  with  him,  and  to  let  you  have  her 
if  you  ever  have  a  home  of  your  own  to  take  her 
to.  I  am  especially  anxious  that  you  should  not 
forget  your  promise  to  me.  Grieve  for  me  a  little 
while,  and  then  let  it  go.  I  have  never  trusted 
myself  to  tell  you  what  your  love  has  been  to  me. 
I  have  felt  sorry  for  it,  for  your  sake,  but  to  me  it 
has  been  like  a  second  springtime  in  the  begin- 
ning of  winter.  I  have  felt  more  and  more  that,  if 
it  had  not  been  for  this  trouble  of  mine,  I  might 
have  renewed  my  youth  in  yours. 

"  Good  by,  dear  Evelyn.     Make  yourself  all  that 
you  have  it  in  you  to  be.     That  is  the  way  I  should 
like  to  have  you  remember  me  best.     Don't  throw 
away  opportunities  of  happiness  because  of  me. 
"  Most  faithfully  yours, 

"  THOMAS  H.  GARDNER." 

Mr.  William  Gardner,  when  he  came,  was 
not  so  formal  as  his  letter.  He  was  kind,  and 
full  of  delicacy  and  tact.  His  uncle's  letter  to 
him  had  been  explanatory  of  his  different  in- 
vestments, and  of  his  affairs  generally,  which 


The  Deluge  369 

were  in  perfect  order.  Still,  there  were  some 
formalities  which  would  make  it  impossible  to 
settle  the  estate  and  pay  the  legacies  for  some 
months.  He  hoped  that  it  would  not  incon- 
venience her.  He  showed  Evelyn  the  part  of 
his  uncle's  letter  which  referred  to  herself,  and 
considerately  walked  to  the  window  while  she 
read  it.  It  spoke  of  her  as  the  daughter  of  a 
former  patient,  and  professed  an  affection  and 
respect  for  her  which  were  very  comforting. 

The  idea  of  staying  on  at  Jersey  City  was 
distasteful  to  her  now,  but  she  had  no  choice. 
She  had  no  money  except  the  hundred  dollars 
that  the  Doctor  had  given  her,  and  no  place  to 
go.  Even  Mrs.  Gordon  was  shortly  to  go  back 
to  Scotland,  to  spend  the  rest  of  her  life  in  her 
native  village.  Her  savings,  together  with  a 
legacy  the  Doctor  had  left  her,  would  make 
her  a  person  of  wealth  and  consideration  there. 

A  day  or  two  later,  as  she  sat  sewing  for  Miss 
Stevens,  Evelyn  received  a  letter  from  Dolly 
Van  Horn.  She  expressed  her  sympathy  for 
the  death  of  Evelyn's  mother,  of  which  she 
had  only  just  heard ;  but  the  real  purpose  of 
her  letter  was  to  ask  Evelyn  if  she  would  care 
to  take  her  position  as  her  uncle's  secretary 
when  the  family  went  to  Chenook,  six  weeks 
later.  Her  own  mother  was  in  such  poor 
health  that  she  could  not  go  so  far  away  from 


37°       The  Things  that  Count 

her.  Evelyn's  duties  would  be  very  simple. 
She  would  have  to  write  Mr.  Van  Horn's  let- 
ters, which  were  numerous,  and  read  to  him 
for  an  hour  or  two  every  day.  Then  she  would 
be  expected  to  walk  and  ride  with  him,  with- 
out letting  him  know  that  it  was  not  her  own 
choice.  Her  aunt  did  not  like  to  have  him  go 
around  alone  since  that  first  stroke,  and  he 
would  not  take  a  servant.  For  this  she  would 
have  fifty  dollars  a  month.  She  would  have 
a  good  deal  of  time  to  herself,  and  would  be 
treated  quite  like  one  of  the  family.  Her 
uncle  had  been  delighted  with  the  suggestion 
when  she  had  made  it  to  him,  and  so  had  her 
aunt.  They  had  both  disliked  the  prospect  of 
taking  an  absolute  stranger  into  the  family. 

Evelyn  hated  the  idea  of  going  to  live  in 
another  person's  house  again;  but  going  to 
Chenook  with  the  Van  Horns  was  so  infinitely 
preferable  to  staying  in  the  terrible  emptiness 
of  Jersey  City  that  she  did  not  have  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation.  Besides,  she  would  now 
be  on  an  independent  footing,  with  no  obliga- 
tion to  entertain  any  one.  She  liked  the  idea 
of  being  with  Mr.  Van  Horn  as  much  as  she 
could  like  anything,  and  she  would  have  six 
weeks  in  which  to  get  a  little  used  to  the  grief 
which  was  now  her  constant  companion.  She 
gave  up  her  work  with  Miss  Stevens,  and 


The  Deluge  37 l 

started   to  get   her   wardrobe  in  order:  with 
little  of  her  old  interest,  however. 

One  Sunday  afternoon,  as  she  came  in  from 
a  solitary  walk,  she  was  surprised  to  hear  that 
a  gentleman  was  waiting  for  her  in  her  room. 
She  went  up,  and  found  Richard  pacing  rest- 
lessly up  and  down.  When  he  saw  her,  he 
came  to  her  and  took  her  left  hand — the  right 
was  filled  with  wild  flowers. 

"  I  only  heard  yesterday,"  he  said,  without 
any  preliminaries.  '  I  was  in  Chicago  when 
it  happened,  and  Hunt  did  not  think  to  speak 
to  me  about  it  when  I  got  back.  I  learned  it 
only  by  chance."  Evelyn's  eyes  slowly  filled 
with  tears. 

It  seems  like  the  end  of  the  world  to  me," 
she  answered,  taking  off  her  hat,  and  laying  it 
on  a  shelf  in  the  closet.  She  put  her  flowers 
in  water,  then  came  and  sat  down  in  a  corner 
of  the  sofa.  Richard  drew  a  chair  up  opposite 
her. 

'  We  won't  talk  about  it  if  you  don't  want 
to;  but  I  felt  I  must  come,"  he  said,  with  an 
emotion  which  he  did  not  try  to  hide. 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  talk  about  it  a 
little  to  you.  It  is  killing  me,  this  going  over 
and  over  it  to  myself.  There  has  n't  been  a 
soul  from  whom  I  could  bear  an  allusion." 

'  Would   you   like   to   tell   me   what   your 


372       The  Things  that  Count 

relations  were  to  him  at  the  time  ?  "  he  asked 
as  she  paused. 

"  He  knew  I  loved  him.  I  told  him  so  a 
great  many  times.  I  was  always  telling  him 
so.  He  was  very  fond  of  me  in  a  way,  but  he 
was  not  in  the  least  in  love  with  me.  I  will 
show  you  the  letter  he  wrote  me  a  week  before 
he  died,  and  that  will  explain  the  situation 
better  than  I  can.  It  is  not  a  love  letter,  of 
course."  She  took  it  out  of  her  pocket,  and 
gave  it  to  him,  adding:  "  I  like  to  have  it 
with  me."  He  read  it,  and  gave  it  back  to 
her  without  a  word.  It  was  some  minutes 
before  he  asked : 

Did  he  ever  say  anything  about  me  to 
you  ?  I  think  I  gave  myself  away  most 
thoroughly  that  day  we  took  lunch  together." 

'  Yes,  he  did  several  times.     The  last  time 
I  saw  him  was  one,"  she  answered  simply. 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me  what  he  said  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Not  at  all.  He  said  that  he  hoped  that  I 
would  marry  you  some  day,  when  I  should 
have  got  over  the  freshness  of  this  feeling  for 
him.  He  was  thinking  of  his  death;  but  I 
only  thought  he  meant  when  I  should  care  less 
because  of  the  hopelessness  of  it." 

I  will  not  bother  you  with  any  more  ques- 
tions to-day,"  he  went  on;  "  but  I  want  you 


The  Deluge  373 

to  know  that  I  shall  not  change.  I  care  for 
you  a  thousand  times  more  than  I  ever  thought 
I  had  it  in  me  to  care  for  a  woman.  I  seem  to 
have  no  other  life." 

"It  is  strange,"  she  remarked,  with  an 
impersonal  air;  "  but  I  never  believed  in  it 
thoroughly  before  to-day.  I  am  really  con- 
scious of  it  for  the  first  time." 

"  I  did  not  really  care  until  I  found  that  I 
had  lost  you  to  a  better  man.  I  thought  I 
did,  of  course;  but  it  was  all  child's  play  to 
what  I  have  felt  since.  I  am  not  going  to 
bother  you  with  this  feeling  of  mine.  I  shall 
keep  it  to  myself  until  you  want  me  to  speak 
of  it,  if  that  happy  time  ever  comes."  He 
looked  the  question  that  he  did  not  ask,  and 
she  answered  it. 

I  think  that  it  will  some  day:  a  long  way 
off;  if  you  do  as  you  say.  I  am  afraid  that  it 
never  will  if  you  bother  me,  as  you  call  it. 
You  see,  I  can't  imagine  the  thing  now.  It  is 
only  because  I  know  the  effect  of  time  that  I 
can  believe  in  it  at  all.  Still,  I  want  to  marry 
some  time;  and  he,  Dr.  Gardner,  wanted  me 
to  marry  you." 

'  You  are  going  to  Chenook,  I  hear,"  he  re- 
marked presently. 

'  Yes.     Do  you  think  it  is  a  good  plan  ? " 

'  Yes,   very.     Mrs.    Van   Horn  has  invited 


374       The  Things  that  Count 

me  to  come  up  there  for  a  fortnight,  and  I  was 
planning  to  go  in  September.  I  can't  get 
away  till  then.  Shall  you  mind  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all ;  if  you  come  simply  as  a  friend. 
—Richard." 

"Yes?" 

'  You  will  never  hint  at  this  to  Lucia  or 
Dolly,  will  you  ?" 

"  No,  of  course  not.  Well,  I  must  be  going. 
I  '11  see  you  at  Chenook,  then  ?  " 

'  Yes.     Good-by." 

When  the  time  came  to  go,  Evelyn  was  very 
glad  to  do  it.  She  had  been  growing  more 
instead  of  less  unhappy  in  the  past  six  weeks. 
She  could  neither  eat  nor  sleep  well,  and  she 
was  so  nervous  that  it  required  a  constant  effort 
to  keep  from  screaming  at  every  sudden  noise. 
She  disposed  of  her  furniture  at  a  very  good 
price  to  Miss  Stevens,  who  had  been  doing  so 
well  in  her  business  that  she  felt  herself  just- 
ified in  taking  a  room  for  her  own  use,  instead-of 
sleeping  in  the  workroom.  She  gave  Clara  the 
price  of  the  things  that  had  been  her  mother's, 
and  the  rest  of  the  money  she  sent  to  Richard, 
together  with  a  little  of  that  which  the  Doctor 
had  given  her,  as  payment  for  the  things  he 
had  bought  for  her.  She  knew  that  her  unwill- 
ingness to  rest  under  a  money  obligation  to 
him  would  hurt  him ;  but  she  could  not  help  it. 


The  Deluge  375 

At  the  time  appointed,  she  joined  the  Van 
Horns  in  New  York,  and  went  up  to  Chenook 
with  them.  Dolly,  who  came  to  see  her  uncle 
and  aunt  off,  was  shocked  at  the  change  in  her 
appearance,  and  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van  Horn 
loaded  her  down  with  kindly  attentions.  They 
both  called  her  Evelyn,  which  pleased  her  very 
much. 

"  She  will  look  like  herself  again  before  she 
has  been  at  Chenook  a  week, ' '  her  uncle  assured 
Dolly. 

It  had  always  surprised  her  in  the  old  days 
that  Mrs.  Van  Horn  had  liked  her  as  well  as 
she  did.  Evelyn  would  not  have  expected  it 
of  her,  but  found  it  a  great  comfort  that  it 
was  so,  feeling  always  the  need  of  having  her 
world  in  sympathy  with  her.  Affection,  too, 
had  always  been  a  necessity  with  her.  The 
afternoon  after  their  arrival,  Evelyn  went  to 
Mrs.  Van  Horn,  who  was  sitting  alone  on  the 
lawn,  and  asked  her  if  she  might  speak  with  her 
a  minute. 

"  Certainly,"  that  lady  answered  graciously. 
'  Mrs.  Van  Horn,"  Evelyn  began  slowty, 
"  there  is  something  that  I  want  you  and  Mr. 
Van  Horn  to  know.  I  have  had  a  great  sor- 
row lately,  one  that  I  shall  not  get  over  easily. 
I  will  do  my  best  not  to  make  it  obtrusive,  but 
I  want  you  both  to  be  patient  with  me  if  I 


376       The  Things  that  Count 

seem  unhappy  at  times.  I  will  do  my  best," 
she  repeated  sadly.  Mrs.  Van  Horn  took  her 
hand  and  held  it  while  she  said : 

"  Don't  try  too  hard.  We  have  not  engaged 
you  to  entertain  us.  You  have  had  far  too 
much  of  that  sort  of  thing  already.  You  are 
as  free  to  be  yourself  as  any  one  of  us.  It  will 
be  all  right,  since  we  shall  know  that  you  are 
not  unhappy  because  of  us  in  any  way.  Is 
there  anything  in  particular  that  I  can  do  to 
make  it  easier  for  you  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  not  urge  me  to  go  to  things,  or 
to  see  people,  I  should  be  very  glad.  That  is 
one  reason  why  I  have  told  you  this.  I  could 
not  stand  a  life  like  my  old  one  now;  and, 
of  course,  this  is  sufficient  excuse  to  other 
people."  She  touched  her  black  dress  lightly 
as  she  spoke. 

'  Very  well.  It  shall  be  as  you  wish. 
When  your  work  is  done,  your  time  is  your 
own.  My  husband  spends  a  great  deal  of  his 
time  puttering  about  the  garden,  and  I  feel  per- 
fectly safe  about  him  there  in  sight  of  my 
windows." 

"  I  shall  like  to  help  him  there,"  said  Evelyn. 
"  I  love  gardening.  You  must  give  me 
enough  real  work  to  do  to  make  me  feel  that 
I  earn  my  salary,  or  I  won't  stay." 

"  There  will  be  plenty  for  that,"  Mrs.  Van 


The  Deluge  377 

Horn  answered  with  a  smile.  Evelyn  started 
to  go  back  to  the  house,  but  Mrs.  Van  Horn 
stopped  her. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  she  began,  with  a  little 
hesitation,  "  I  was  thinking  that  it  might  be 
good  for  you  if  you  were  to  talk  to  Twiller  a 
little  about  this  trouble  of  yours.  He  is  so 
sympathetic  that  people  often  feel  a  desire  to 
tell  him  things.  You  don't  want  to  shut  it  in 
yourself.  It  will  be  bad  for  you." 

'  I  may  want  to  some  time,"  she  answered 
gratefully.  "It  is  too  fresh  now."  After 
this,  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Van  Horn  were  kinder  to 
her  than  ever. 

Notwithstanding  many  alleviations,  the  sum- 
mer was  a  very  long  and  a  very  unhappy  one 
to  Evelyn.  She  felt  such  an  acute  sense  of 
loneliness  sometimes,  especially  in  the  long 
twilights,  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  could  not 
stand  it :  she  should  do  something  desperate. 
Often,  when  she  stayed  out  of  doors  late,  dear 
old  Mr.  Van  Horn  would  come  to  get  her  and 
take  her  in ;  or,  if  the  night  were  warm,  he 
would  stay  out  with  her,  talking  to  her  and 
trying  to  divert  her  mind.  Evelyn  felt  very 
grateful  to  him,  and  always  met  him  more 
than  half  way.  On  the  whole,  she  managed 
to  keep  her  unhappiness  to  herself,  and  to  ap- 
pear tolerably  cheerful  and  contented. 


378       The  Things  that  Count 

They  had  very  little  company,  since  it  tired 
Mr.  Van  Horn  too  much  since  his  stroke. 
In  the  autumn,  Richard  came;  and,  for  the 
first  time,  Evelyn  began  to  feel  a  little  like 
herself  again.  They  took  long  walks,  rides, 
and  sails  together  in  the  hours  that  Mr.  Van 
Horn  devoted  to  his  garden.  Both  he  and  his 
wife  threw  the  two  together  on  every  possible 
occasion.  Richard  kept  his  word,  and  met 
her  simply  as  a  friend,  but  she  never  lost  con- 
sciousness of  the  depth  of  his  feeling  for  her. 
It  touched  her  inexpressibly,  the  way  he  took 
care  of  her.  Her  smallest  want  was  not  allowed 
to  pass  unnoticed,  and  if  she  spoke  he  had  ears 
for  no  one  else.  It  had  been  different  in  the 
old  days.  His  independence  had  been  the  trait 
that  had  impressed  her  most  forcibly.  Now 
she  felt  his  love  in  everything  he  said  or  did 
not  say,  everything  he  did  or  left  undone. 
She  was  conscious  of  missing  him  in  the 
month  that  they  spent  at  Chenook  after  he 
left. 

Evelyn  still  remained  with  the  Van  Horns 
after  their  return  to  New  York.  It  was  not 
really  necessary,  as  she  now  had  plenty  of 
money.  Her  debts  were  paid,  and  her  legacy 
had  been  placed  to  her  credit  in  the  bank. 
This  money  Mr.  Van  Horn  had  invested  for 
her.  Nevertheless,  she  could  not  bear  the 


The  Deluge  379 

idea  of  going  off  to  live  by  herself  somewhere, 
and  she  had  grown  much  attached  to  the  Van 
Horns,  and  they  to  her.  Besides,  Dolly's 
mother  was  now  too  ill  for  her  to  leave  her 
even  for  the  day. 

When  she  was  back  in  New  York,  Evelyn 
found  a  little  of  her  old  energy  returning  to 
her.  She  began  to  take  music  lessons,  joined 
a  German  conversation  class,  and  took  up  a 
course  of  reading.  She  could  hire  her  sewing 
done  now,  and  she  felt  it  was  high  time  that 
she  began  to  fill  up  the  gaps  in  her  education. 
Richard  came  to  the  house  every  Sunday,  pro- 
fessedly to  see  the  whole  family;  but  it  soon 
grew  to  be  a  matter  of  course  that  he  should 
have  an  hour  alone  with  Evelyn  in  the  music- 
room  before  dinner. 

One  Sunday  afternoon,  in  the  early  part  of 
May,  he  came  in  and  found  her  in  a  lavender 
silk  blouse. 

"  Oh,  I  like  that!  "  he  exclaimed. 
'  I  am  not  going  to  wear  plain  black  any 
more;  it  is  so  unbecoming  to  me,"  she  ex- 
plained. "  Is  n't  it  spring-like  to-day,  Richard? 
The  season  has  been  so  late,  and  now  it  is 
jumping  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  Mr.  Van 
Horn  and  I  were  in  the  Park  this  morning,  and 
we  could  almost  see  the  leaves  grow.  We  are 
going  to  ride  out  on  the  Drive  to-morrow." 


380       The  Things  that  Count 

Richard  did  not  answer.  He  was  looking  at 
her  intently. 

'  Evelyn/'  he  said,  "  I  have  been  very 
patient." 

'  Yes,  I  know  you  have,"  she  answered 
sympathetically. 

"  But,  somehow,  to-day  I  feel  as  if  that 
blouse  of  yours  were  a  sign  of  hope.  Your 
manner  seems  different,  too.  You  seem  your 
old  self." 

"I  hope  not!"  she  said  fervently.  "I 
don't  want  to  be  that  old  self  of  mine.  I  don't 
know  that  I  shall  ever  do  anything  especially 
different  because  of  what  I  have  been  through. 
People  in  books  who  have  had  troubles  always 
take  to  philanthropy ;  but  I  hate  the  way  they 
make  a  fad  of  it  nowadays  so  much  that  I  could 
never  do  that;  and  there  does  n't  seem  to  be 
much  else  that  is  conspicuously  virtuous. 
Still,  I  shall  be  a  different  person  all  my  life 
through;  and,  after  all,  it  is  being  more  than 
doing  that  counts."  She  hesitated  a  minute, 
then  added  in  a  low  voice:  "  A  lesser  man 
could  have  done  all  that  Dr.  Gardner  did." 
She  said  his  name  slowly,  almost  reverently. 

It  was  what  he  was  that  made  his  influence 
so  unbounded  with  everyone  who  knew  him. 
I  felt  that  after  his  death  especially,  when  I 
heard  how  people  were  mourning  for  him. 


The  Deluge  381 

But  I  did  put  this  waist  on  with  a  purpose  to- 
day, Richard.  I  meant  it  to  be  what  you  took 
it  to  be.  We  are  both  young,  and  there  is 
spring  outside,  and  there  ought  to  be  spring 
inside,  too.  I  felt  that  so  strongly  when  I  was 
in  the  Park  this  morning;  and  then  Mr.  Van 
Horn  talked  to  me  a  little  about  you,  and  I 
felt  that  he  was  right."  She  held  out  her 
hand  to  him  as  he  spoke,  but  he  put  his  arms 
around  her  and  drew  her  to  him.  He  held  her 
there  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes;  then  he 
kissed  her  gravely  and  lingeringly.  "  You 
don't  mind  this  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 
Evelyn  laughed.  It  sounded  strangely  in  the 
intensity  of  their  mood,  but  they  both  felt  an 
immediate  relief  from  strain. 

"  No,"  she  answered  demurely;  "  I  find  it 
very  nice.  I  have  always  been  fond  of  you, 
you  know,  and  I  like  this  sort  of  thing." 

"  And  is  that  all  ?  "  he  asked  sadly. 

"  All  just  now;  but  it  will  be,  it  shall  be, 
more.  I  know  that  I  shall  grow  to  love  you 
very  much  when  I  once  let  myself  go  and 
begin.  I  have  been  holding  myself  back;  not 
consciously,  however.  It  was  only  when  Mr. 
Van  Horn  talked  to  me  to-day  that  I  realised 
that  I  was  not  keeping  my  promise.  I  am  not 
a  woman  who  can  live  alone,"  she  went  on  a 
minute  later.  "  I  am  not  self-sufficient.  I 


382       The  Things  that  Count 

crave  sympathy,  companionship,  affection.  I 
want  the  sense  of  personal,  bodily  nearness. 
I  want  your  love.  I  don't  want  you  to  try 
to  hide  it  from  me  any  longer.  I  want  to 
feel  it  every  second.  You  need  not  be  afraid, 
Richard.  I  shall  return  it.  I  know  that  I 
shall,  fully  and  completely.  It  will  not  be  the 
way  I  cared  for  him ;  but  it  will  satisfy  you. 
It  is  strange  that  we  can  love  in  such  different 
ways,"  she  continued  speculatively  after  an 
interval.  ;<  I  was  an  entirely  different  person 
with  Dr.  Gardner  than  I  am  with  you.  I  was 
utterly  subdued,  conquered,  with  him/  He 
dominated  me  completely,  while  with  you  —  I 
hope  that  I  shall  never  abuse  my  power,"  she 
broke  off,  putting  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
and  holding  him  close  to  her. 

' '  It  has  been  so  long,  so  long !  ' '  said  Richard 
brokenly. 

"  Come,  let  us  go  and  tell  Mr.  Van  Horn," 
Evelyn  suggested,  a  little  later.  "  He  is  in  the 
library,  taking  a  nap,  I  fancy;  but  he  will  be 
glad  to  be  wakened  for  this;  and,  besides,  it 
is  nearly  dinner  time." 

The  dear  old  man  put  his  arms  around 
Evelyn  and  kissed  her  when  Richard  had  told 
him  the  news.  His  kind  face  fairly  beamed 
with  pleasure. 

"  You  are  doing  the  right  thing,  my  dear 


The  Deluge 


383 


child,"  he  said  to  her.  '  I  am  talking  about 
something  that  I  know  all  about,"  he  added  a 
little  sadly.  "It  is  natural  to  let  things  go, 
and  it  is  a  sin  to  spend  one's  youth  grieving 
over  what  is  irrevocably  lost." 

'  We  are  going  to  be  very  happy,"  Evelyn 
answered  with  a  smile. 


U a  l^tea&etto  gnigfet 


THE  THINGS  THAT  COUNT 

Hudson  Library,  No.  43.     12°,  paper,  50  cts.  ;  cloth,  $ 

In  her  well-known  graphic  style,  Miss  Tompkins  has  made  a  strong 
and  vivid  study  of  a  character  hitherto  not  delineated  in  American 
fiction.  Her  heroine  is  an  indolent  young  woman  of  small  means, 
who  lives  by  visiting  the  houses  of  wealthy  friends.  The  story  of  her 
regeneration  through  her  affection  for  a  man  of  strong  character  is 
cleverly  told. 

TALKS  WITH  BARBARA 


Miss  Tompkins  has  set  forth  in  this  volume  certain  striking  opin- 
ions in  regard  to  the  problems  which  confront  young  men  and  young 
women  of  to-day.  She  has  drawn  a  bright  and  energetic  girl,  whose 
breezy  talks  with  her  masculine  friend  include  many  bits  of  protest 
against  the  restrictions  at  present  imposed  by  Mrs.  Grundy. 

HER  MAJESTY 

A    Romance    of    To-Day.      Hudson    Library,    No.    6. 
12°,  paper,  50  cts.  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Nothing  was  ever  more  realistic  than  this  entirely  ideal  story, 
and  the  romance  is  as  artistic  as  the  realism.  .  .  .  The  story  is 
bright  and  full  of  life,  and  there  is  an  alertness  in  the  style  as  charm- 
ing as  its  sympathy." — The  Evangelist. 

THE  BROKEN  RING 

Hudson    Library,   No.    15.     12°,    paper,  50  cts.  ;  cloth, 

$1.00. 

"  A  romance  of  war  and  love  in  royal  life,  pleasantly  written  and 
cleverly  composed  for  melodramatic  effect  in  the  end." — Independent. 

AN  UNLESSONED  GIRL 

A  Story  of  School  Life.     With  frontispiece.     12°,  $1.25. 

"This  story  of  the  development  of  a  bright  but  self-conscious, 
affected  and  ambitious  girl,  under  the  discipline  of  school  life,  is  far 
above  the  average  of  literary  merit.  The  analysis  of  character  and 
motives  is  acute,  the  personages  seem  real,  and  the  talk  has  the  light 
and  easy  touch  which  makes  it  natural." — Christian  Intelligencer. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

27  &  29  West  23d  Street  24  Bedford  Street,  Strand 


Iftew  jfiction* 


Agatha  Webb. 

By  ANNA  KATHARINE  GREEN,  author  of  "  The  Leaven- 
worth  Case,"  "That  Affair  Next  Door,"  etc.  12°, 
cloth,  $1.25. 

41  This  is  a  cleverly  concocted  detective  story,  and  sustains  the  well- 
earned  reputation  of  the  writer.  .  .  .  The  curiosity  of  the  reader  is  excited 
xnd  sustained  to  the  close."— Brooklyn  Citizen. 

I  Agatha  Webb  is  as   intensely    interesting  a  detective  story  as  was 
"The  Leaven  worth  Case,"  -and  when  that  is  said,  no  higher  compliment  can 
be  given  it." — Omaha  World-Herald. 

Children  of  the  Mist. 

By  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS.    nth  impression.     8°,  $1.50 

"A  work  of  amazing  power  which  plainly  indicates  a  master  hand." — Bos- 
ton Herald, 

"  Seldom  does  a  critic  come  upon  a  book  that  he  can  praise  more  heartily 
than  he  can  Eden  Phillpotts's  new  romance, — it  is  so  full  of  life,  so  full  of 
the  subtle  and  strong  influence  of  environment  upon  character,  that  it  leaves 
upon  the  mind  that  unity  of  impression  which  is  one  of  the  highest  attributes  of 
a  work  of  art." — London  Daily  News. 

Miss  Cayley's  Adventures. 

By  GRANT  ALLEN,  author  of  "  Flowers  and  Their  Pedk 
grees,"  etc.  With  80  illustrations.  36  edition.  12°, 
$1.50. 

II  One  of  the  most  delightfully  jolly,  entertaining,  and  fascinating 
works  that  has  ever  come  from  Grant  Allen's  pen." — New  York  World. 

"A  quaint  and  sparkling  story — bright  and  entertaining  from  beginning  to 
end." — Chicago  Times-Herald. 

"  Perfectly  delightful  from  start  to  finish  .  .  .  bubbles  with  wit  and 
humor.  .  .  .  Miss  Cayley's  adventures  are  simply  bewitching."— Seattle  In- 
telligencer. 

Dr.  Berkeley's  Discovery. 

By  RICHARD  SLEE  and  CORNELIA  ATWOOD  PRATT. 
Hudson  Library^  No.  40.  12°,  paper,  50  cts.  ;  cloth, 
$1.00 

Dr.  Berkeley's  discovery  is  a  liquid  which  will  "  deve/op"  certain 
memory  cells  of  the  human  brain,  as  a  photographer's  chemicals 
41  develop  "  a  sensitized  plate.  Upon  each  tiny  cell  appears  a  picture, 
visible  by  the  microscope.  By  "  developing"  the  memory  centre  of 
a  brain,  Dr.  Berkeley  can  trace  the  most  secret  history  of  the  being 
that  owned  the  brain  ;  can  see  the  things  the  being  saw,  in  sequence, 
from  infancy  to  death.  With  this  foundation,  the  authors  of  "Dr. 
Berkeley's  Discovery  "  have  told  a  thrilling,  dramatic  story. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON. 


flew  ^fiction 

SMITH    BRUNT 

United  States  Navy.  By  WALDRON  K.  POST,  author 
of  "  Harvard  Stories,"  etc.  12°,  459  pages,  $1.50. 

"A  rattling  good  story  of  the  Old  Navy.  .  .  .  The  book 
recalls  Harry  Gringo  by  its  breadth  and  interest  of  plot ;  which 
means  it  is  a  first-class  sea  story.  It  is  not  an  imitation,  however. 
.  .  .  The  prevailing  thought  of  the  book  is  the  unity  of  aims, 
ideals  and  race  between  Englishmen  and  Americans,  and  this  idea  is 
brought  out  so  well  that,  even  though  the  reader  enjoys  the  story  of 
the  fierce  sea-fights,  he  deplores  the  shedding  of  blood  by  brothers' 
hands." — Buffalo  Cottrier. 

BEARERS  OF  THE  BURDEN 

Being  Stories  of  Land  and   Sea.     By  Major  W.  P. 

DRURY,  Royal  Marines.     12°,  286  pages,  $>i.oo. 
"  Major  Drury's  stories  combine  pathos  and  humor  with  an  under- 
lying earnestness   that  betrays  a  clear  moral  vision.      The  whole 
volume  is  of  a  rare  and  wholesome  quality." — Chicago  Tribune. 

ROSALBA 

The  Story  of  Her  Development.  By  OLIVE  PRATT 
RAYNER  (Grant  Alien),  author  of  "  Flowers  and 
Their  Pedigrees,"  etc.  Hudson  Library,  No.  39. 
12°,  396  pages,  paper,  50  cts.  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"A  story  which  holds  the  reader  with  profound  interest  to  the 
closing  lines." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

ABOARD  "  THE  AMERICAN  DUCHESS  " 

By  HEADON  HILL.  Hudson  Library,  No.  41.  12°, 
paper,  50  cts.  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

NOTE. — This  is  a  reprint  of  a  work  previously  published  under  the  title  of 
"  Queen  of  the  Night  " — with  certain  changes  of  names. 

"  He  has  certainly  given  to  the  reading  public  a  capital  story  full 
of  action.  It  is  a  bright  novel  and  contains  many  admirable  chap- 
ters. Life  on  the  ocean  is  well  depicted,  many  exciting  episodes 
are  well  told,  and  it  will  interest  readers  of  all  classes." — Knoxville 
Sentinel. 

THE  PRIEST'S  MARRIAGE 

By  NORA  VYNNE,  author  of  "  The  Blind  Artist's  Picture," 
etc.  Hudson  Library,  No.  42.  12°,  paper,  50  cts.  ; 
cloth,  $1.00. 

"The  subject  is  worked  out  in  a  most  interesting  manner  with 
admirable  taste  and  more  admirable  art.  The  character  drawing  is 
unusually  good." — Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  Boston. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


Hnna  jfuliet 


A   LITERARY  COURTSHIP 

Under  the  Auspices  of  Pike's  Peak.  Printed  on  deckel 
edged  paper,  with  illustrations.  25th  edition.  16°,  gilt 
top $i-2S 

"  A  delightful  little  love  story.  Like  her  other  books  it  is  bright  and 
breezy  ;  its  humor  is  crisp  and  the  general  idea  decidedly  original.  It  is 
just  the  book  to  slip  into  the  pocket  for  a  journey,  when  one  does  not  care 
for  a  novel  or  serious  reading." — Boston  Times. 

A  VENETIAN  JUNE 

Illustrated  by  George  Sloane.  Printed  on  deckel  edged  paper. 
12°,  gilt  top .  $1.25 

"A  Venetian  June  bespeaks  its  material  by  its  title  and  very  full  the 
little  story  is  of  the  picturesqueness,  the  novelty,  the  beauty  of  life  in  the 
city  of  gondolas  and  gondoliers — a  strong  and  able  work  showing  serious- 
ness of  motive  and  strength  of  touch." — Literary  World. 

The  above  two  vols  together  in  box  .  .  .  .  .  $2.50 
PRATT  PORTRAITS 

Sketched  in  a  New  England  Suburb.  i4th  edition.  With 
13  full-page  illustrations  by  George  Sloane.  8°,  gilt 
top $1.5° 

"  The  lines  the  author  cuts  in  her  vignette  are  sharp  and  clear,  but  she 
has,  too,  not  alone  the  knack  of  color,  but  what  is  rarer,  the  gift  of 
Ihumor." — New  York  Times. 

PEAK  AND  PRAIRIE 

From  a  Colorado  Sketch-Book.  With  16  full-page  illustra- 
tions. 16°,  gilt  top $1.25 

"We  may  say  that  the  jaded  reader  fagged  with  the  strenuous  art  of  the 
passing  hour,  who  chances  to  select  this  volume  to  cheer  the  hours,  will 
throw  up  his  hat  for  sheer  joy  at  having  hit  upon  a  book  in  which  morbid- 
ness and  self-consciousness  are  conspicuous  by  their  absence." — New  York 
Times. 

ONE  OF  THE  PILGRIMS 
A  Bank  Sory.     12°,  gilt  top $1.25 

<l  The  story  is  graceful  and  delightful,  full  of  vivacity,  and  is  not  without 
pathos.  It  is  thoroughly  interesting  and  well  worthy  of  a  place  with  Miss 
Fuller's  other  books." — Congregationalist. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON. 


(Brace  2>enio  Xitcbfielb 


©nig  an  UndDent. 

A  Story  of  a  Country  Town.     i6mo  75  cts« 

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tion of  what  is  humorous  in  provincial  life." — N.  Y.  Times. 

Gbe  Uniigbt  of  tbe  JSlach  forest. 

Illustrated.     i6mo 75  <*s. 

"  It  is  a  clever  performance,  that  ranks  the  author's  ability  higher  than 
before."— Boston  Globe. 

Crisscross, 

i6mo ...       75  cts, 

"A  clever  piece  of  character  study,  .  .  .  full  of  grace  and  humor."— 
Chicago  Tribune. 

B  1barD*TKIlon  IDictorg. 

i6mo fi  oo 

"4A  Hard-Won  Victory'  is  a  good  stcry.  ...  Its  lessons  of  feminine 
heroism  and  self-sacrifice  are  nobly  and  well  conveyed."— Literary  World. 

Xittle  TDcnicc,  ano  ©tbec  Stories* 

With  frontispiece.     i6mo 75  cts« 

**....  Show  a  refinement  of  sentiment,  a  quick  dramatic  perception,  and 
a  delicacy  of  fancy," — Boston  Beacon. 

•ffn  tbe  Crucible, 

No.  1 8  in  "  The  Hudson  Library."     Second  edition.     I2mo, 

gilt  top,  $1.25  ;  paper 50  cts. 

"  A  story  of  Washington  society  full  of  piquant  charm  and  grace,  in  which  a 
reader  will  become  immediately  interested." — Rochester  Democrat  and  Chronicle. 

Mimosa  Xeaves, 

Poems.     Illustrated  by  Helen  and  Margaret  Armstrong. 

i6mo,  gilt  top     ........        $1.5° 

14  These  poems  possess  a  rhythm  that  is  very  smooth  and  pleasing,  and  a 
genuine  poetic  feeling.  The  author  is  perhaps  at  her  best  in  those  poems  descrip 
live  of  personal  feelings." — Utica  Herald. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON. 


THE    HUDSON    LIBRARY. 


Published  bi-monthly.    Entered  as  second-class  matter.   16°, 
paper,  50  cents.     Published  also  in  cloth. 


i. 

2. 

3- 

4- 
5- 
6. 

7- 
8. 

9- 
10. 
ii. 

12. 
13- 
14. 
15- 

16. 

17- 

18. 
19. 

20. 
21. 
22. 


LOVE  AND  SHAWL-STRAPS. 
By  Annette  Lucille  Noble. 

MISS  KURD:  AN  ENIGMA. 
By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

HOW  THANKFUL  WAS  BE- 
WITCHED. By  Jas.  K.  Hos- 
mer. 

A  WOMAN  OF  IMPULSE.  By 
Justin  Huntley  McCarthy. 

THE  COUNTESS  BETTINA. 
By  Clinton  Ross. 

HER  MAJESTY.  By  Elizabeth 
Knight  Tompkins. 

GOD  FORSAKEN.  By  Frederic 
Breton. 


AN     ISLAND     PRINCESS. 
Theodore  Gift. 


By 


ELIZABETH'S  PRETENDERS. 
By  Hamilton  Aide. 

AT  TUXTER'S.  By  G.  B.  Bur- 
gin. 

CHERRYFIELD  HALL.  By  F. 
H.  Balfour. 

THE  CRIME  OF  THE  CEN- 
TURY. By  R.  Ottolengui. 

THE  THINGS  THAT  MATTER. 
By  Francis  Gribble. 

THE  HEART  OF  LIFE.  By 
W.  H.  Mallock. 

THE  BROKEN  RING.  By  Eliza- 
beth Knight  Tompkins. 

THE  STRANGE  SCHEMES  OF 
RANDOLPH  MASON.  By 
Melville  D.  Post. 

THAT  AFFAIR  NEXT  DOOR. 
By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

IN  THE  CRUCIBLE.  By  Grace 
Denio  Litchfield. 

EYES  LIKE  THE  SEA.  By 
Maurus  J6kai. 

AN  UNCROWNED  KING.  By 
S.  C.  Grier. 

THE  PROFESSOR'S  DILEM- 
MA. By  Annette  Lucille  Noble. 

THE  WAYS  OF  LIFE.  By 
Mrs.  Oliphant. 


THE  MAN  OF    THE   FAMILY. 
By  Christian  Reid. 

MARGOT.    By  Sidney  Pickering. 
THE     FALL    OF    THE    SPAR- 
ROW.    By  M.  C.   Balfour. 

ELEMENTARY    JANE.     By 
Richard  Pryce. 

THE  MAN  OF  LAST  RESORT. 
By  Melville  D.  Post. 

STEPHEN  WHAPSHARE.     By 
Emma  Brooke. 

LOST  MAN'S  LANE.     By  Anna 
Katharine  Green. 


THE     EAR.      By 
By 


WHEAT     IN 
Alien. 

AS     HAVING     NOTHING. 
Hester  Caldwell  Oakley. 

THE  CHASE  OF  AN  HEIRESS. 
By  Christian  Reid. 

FINAL  PROOF.  By  Rodrigues 
Ottolengui, 

THE  WHEEL  OF  GOD.  By 
George  Egerton. 

JOHN  MARMADUKE.  By  S. 
H.  Church. 

HANNAH  THURSTON.  By 
Bayard  Taylor. 

YALE  YARNS.     By  J.  S.  Wood. 

THE  UNTOLD  HALF.  By 
Alien. 

ROSALBA.      By    Olive    P.    Ray- 

ner  (Grant  Allen). 

DR.  BERKELEY'S  DISCOV- 
ERY. By  R.  Slee  and  C.  A. 
Pratt. 

ABOARD  "THE  AMERICAN 
DUCHESS."  By  Headon  Hill. 

THE  PRIEST'S  MARRIAGE. 
By  Nora  Vynne. 

THE  THINGS  THAT  COUNT. 
By  Elizabeth  Knight  Tompkins. 

LONE  PINE.  By  R.  B.  Town- 
shend 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CRA- 
TER. By  Duffield  Osborne. 

THE  LEAVENWORTH  CASE. 
By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,    NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


